Star-Crossed
by AutumnBelle
Summary: Hunger Games AU. Haymitch Abernathy and Maysilee Donner were real lovers in the 74th and 75th Hunger Games. Sixteen years after the war, in which President Coin emerged victorious, the Districts are once again not happy. To no one's surprise, Katniss Abernathy - daughter of the broken lovers of District 12 - is reaped in the reinstated Hunger Games. Peeta/Katniss
1. Prologue: A Daisy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything recognizable.

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**Prologue: **A Daisy

The morning was quiet, quieter than she was used to, and the sun shone brighter than she'd ever seen.

Katniss restrained herself from coughing as she French-braided her hair; she wasn't used to the coal residue that seemed to linger everywhere in her new District. She missed the busy life of the Capitol, even though she'd rarely participated in it. Her and Mama used to sit inside their reclusive apartment, overlooking the busiest street and people-watch. They'd laughed at the hair colors and the funny looking animals.

Now though, looking out her new bedroom window, all Katniss saw was a row of empty, high class houses and a few geese meandering around an unkempt yard.

She could hear nothing except pots and pans banging, which she figured was her father, trying to make something to eat for breakfast. Katniss looked at herself in the mirror. Her looks took after her father, not her mother. Her hair was dark and her eyes grey. Mama's hair had been blonde, and her eyes light blue.

"Katniss?" She heard her father yell, his voice hoarse but loud.

Katniss stood up nervously. Her belly was starting to ache from her nerves, and her eyes were clearly clouded with worry. She patted down her red-and-white checkered sundress, and fixed a couple strands of her hair. Even though she could really care less what any of the kids thought of her, she still found herself wanting to look her best for the first day of school.

The house was barely livable, but it had improved since she'd arrived. The floors were relatively clean, and the dishes were no longer sky-high. Katniss had gotten halfway through cleaning the horrid house when Dad had noticed his seven-year-old child was doing all the work. Since then, he'd been doing the harder chores, such as repairs, that she had no hope of taking on.

Walking into the vast, overly fancy kitchen, she was once again bombarded with mixed feelings when she saw her father.

Haymitch Abernathy wasn't even thirty-years-old yet, but he was already looking haggard. Although, Katniss supposed that Mama hadn't look much better either, before her death. His hair was longer than most men's, but not long enough to wear in a ponytail. His face was covered with accidental stubble – not the kind where men were actually trying to grow a beard, the kind where men were just too lazy to remember to shave. Or in his case, too drunk.

This morning, Katniss was surprised to see he was wearing a buttoned-up shirt and rumpled khakis. It was the nicest she'd seen him look since she'd met him two weeks ago.

"You like oatmeal?" He asked, holding a pan in one hand and a spoon in the other.

Katniss met his grey eyes, so like hers, and saw he looked just as nervous as she felt. This was new to him too.

For the last seven years of her life (which in fact, was her entire life), she'd lived with her mother in the Capitol. She had never once even seen a picture of her father. Haymitch Abernathy lived hundreds of miles away, in her parents' home district, apparently choosing willingly to confine himself.

That was one thing her parents had always had in common, to her knowledge: neither of them wanted anything to do with anyone. Katniss couldn't count the number of times newspaper reporters, TV hosts, or government officials had begged Mama to come out of hiding and give an interview. She had always refused. Dad, she was finding out, was the same way. Over the past couple of weeks, it was hot news in Panem that Katniss had been sent to live with her remaining parent. Everyone wanted that reunion story. Everyone wanted pictures and happy endings.

Nothing about their story was happy. Katniss didn't know all the details, but she did know that back when Panem had been a different country, ran by a manipulative man who controlled them all, her parents had been tributes in the Hunger Games. The Games were set up to prove the Capitol's control over the citizens. Only one child, out of 24 tributes from the districts combined, survived every year for seventy-three years.

On the seventy-fourth year, there were two victors.

Haymitch Abernathy and Maysilee Donner, tributes of District Twelve, shocked everyone in Panem by falling in love as the cameras rolled. Refusing to kill one another, they'd attempted to both die by eating poisonous berries. Katniss had once thought it was romantic, until she realized how completely appalling the entire situation was. And it had only gotten worse – they'd been forced to return to the arena a year later for the Quarter Quell, and by this time Maysilee was pregnant with her.

Mama had always spared her the details of how she'd fallen out of love with her Haymitch – and Katniss wasn't sure she wanted to know; there were nights when Mama would scream his name in her sleep, claw at her skin, and cry her eyes out. There were times when she'd sit in a chair, refusing to move or even eat.

Until two weeks ago, when she'd finally met the man, Katniss had always, always blamed him for the pain Mama went through. But seeing him, she knew he was going through the same thing. She couldn't blame him, when he looked just as miserable.

"School starts at nine. I'll walk you," Dad said, pushing a bowl of steaming oats towards her.

Katniss looked up at him. He'd turned away quickly, and she figured he was hiding tears. He didn't have a clue what he was doing.

As he sat down with his own breakfast, which smelled suspiciously different from hers, she looked at him cautiously.

"I'd like to wear Mama's pin, if you'll allow it."

Dad stopped briefly and jerked his head in approval, although it was restrained. When Mama died, and Katniss arrived here, in District Twelve, she'd only wanted to keep a few possessions. They'd only had a few that really mattered.

The Mockingjay pin, which Maysilee had worn in the Games, was one of them. Her mother had stared at that pin often, although she'd never actually worn it around Katniss. Now it was one of the last things Katniss had to remind her of her mother. She wanted to wear it to her first day of school, so she'd have part of her with her.

On the first day Katniss arrived in her new home, she'd worn the pin and Dad had been visibly distressed by it. Carefully, he'd told her it upset him and asked if he could hide it away. Looking into his eyes, she saw pain she'd never experienced, and it scared her – so she said yes.

Now, though, to her surprise, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Maybe one day, when I think you'll understand, I'll tell you about us. But for now, you deserve to live in peace."

Katniss closed her hand around his as he handed the pin to her. His skin was the same color as hers, and for some odd reason that comforted her. To know how similar they were in all ways, even though neither of them knew anything about each other.

She pinned the Mockingjay to the front of her dress.

"I'm nervous," she whispered.

Dad pushed his hair out of his eyes and offered her a half-smile.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll blend right in. I've lived here my whole life, I would know. You look like the kids from the Seam, and in your heart you relate to them. But you're from the Capitol, so you can also relate to the Merchant kids. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Katniss got up and looked for her shoes to hide her surprise at his long string of comforting words. He had never acted cold towards her - just cautious - but his sudden warmth still surprised her. He was trying really hard to be a father, something he'd never had experience with before.

She took an extra long time to brush her teeth, wishing that she could stall so long that school would just start and be over by the time she was ready to leave. But she eventually had to exit the bathroom, whether she liked it or not.

She was surprised again when she got to the front door and saw Dad waiting for her on the porch. He held a lunch box in his hand.

Clearing his throat, he handed it to her.

"I know you're still not used to the way we make things around here. So I fixed you a sandwich I'm pretty sure won't make you sick."

Katniss was used to a finer quality of bread and ingredients, coming from the Capitol. District Twelve was a completely different place – they used a different type of grain in their bread and ate different kinds of meat. She'd gotten sick a couple of times from foods that hadn't agreed with her.

Touched, she grabbed the lunch box, along with his hand.

They walked down the row of empty Victors' houses. She waved at the geese as they passed them, even though the geese ignored her in return. They were probably the best part so far of District Twelve. She'd never actually had a pet before, and now she had about ten.

The town square was bustling with upper class workers. A couple of people stopped and stared at them as they passed, but Dad gave them a glare and they soon went back to their own business.

The closer they got to the school, Katniss started seeing different kinds of people walking towards them. She immediately felt sorry for them in comparison to those she'd just seen in the town center. They were dressed in rags, practically, and looked to be soaked to the bone in coal.

"I thought since the end of the war, people weren't as poor anymore," she asked quietly. President Coin made it a point of publically advertising how much better all the Districts had it now that Panem was under new control. But this didn't look better to Katniss.

Dad glanced down at her, his face blank. "That's true. But the war didn't change the way of life around here."

Katniss didn't understand, but she nodded anyway. She was soon distracted by the building up ahead of them. It was small, with a playground to the left and a field to the right. She noticed various other parents sending their children off.

"Okay, sweetheart. You'll be in room 103, with Ms. Baker. I'll meet you right here, immediately after school."

Looking at all the unknown people around her, Katniss suddenly felt overwhelmed. Just three weeks ago, Mama had been alive. She'd been teaching Katniss. Now, Katniss was in a foreign place, the only person she'd ever really loved was dead, and she was about to walk into a school for the first time with strange children. Her father, whom she'd known all of two weeks, looked back her at with what Katniss assumed was concern and to a certain extent, love.

She flung her arms around his neck. His face was scratchy, and he smelled funny, but when he lightly hugged her back, she felt calmer.

"Anyone gives you any trouble, you remember that everyone in this town is scared to death of me."

Katniss giggled and released him. He pulled her braid lightly before giving her a light shove toward the doors.

The building wasn't difficult to navigate at all. It was one floor, and the further down the hall she walked, the younger the children she saw. A few of them glanced at her, and Katniss blushed when she realized they were staring at her bright dress. Mostly everyone else was dressed in drab, lifeless colors.

Room 103 was filled with about twenty children. Katniss glanced around at them, wondering which one was safest to sit next to. With surprise, she noticed a young girl waving at her, a genuine smile on her face.

"Katniss!" She called. Katniss, cautious yet thrilled to have a possible friend, sat down at the desk next to her.

Her hair was the same color blonde and her eyes the same shade of blue as Mama's. Katniss both wanted to stare and look away from the girl at the same time.

"I'm Madge. My mom was your mom's sister."

Katniss blinked in bewilderment. "I didn't know I had any other family."

Mama had never mentioned it. For the most part, all Katniss had known about District Twelve before she'd been sent here was that it was the coal-mining District. Thinking about it, she wasn't even sure Mama had been the one to tell her that. Mama didn't like speaking of her past, even to her own child.

Madge suddenly looked nervous. "Well, Mom always said Aunt Maysilee lived far away and couldn't visit. But she missed her, a lot. I wanted to come see you as soon as you got here, but Dad thought you'd want to spend time with your dad before you saw other people."

Katniss looked at the girl in front of her, hardly believing that this was her cousin. But yet it was so obvious. Katniss suspected she'd look exactly like her if she had blonde hair.

Katniss tried to think of anything to say, but the surprise was overwhelming. She'd had a family, all these years? Even though Katniss had always known about Dad, she knew that it would hurt her mother too much if she asked to meet him. Her whole life, from the time she could remember, Mama had always flinched or bit her cheek when the name Haymitch Abernathy was mentioned.

Fortunately, she didn't have to reply to Madge, because at that moment the teacher started class.

Ms. Baker was young and nice, but Katniss wasn't used to sitting still and listening without asking questions when she felt like it. She didn't think the teacher would appreciate her raising her hand after everything she said.

"Who here knows the Capitol Anthem?"

Everyone was silent. Katniss looked at them, shocked. There wasn't a child in the Capitol that didn't sing it daily.

Hesitantly, she raised her hand.

Everyone stared at her as she stood. "Sing?" She asked.

The teacher looked her, a strange look on her face. Katniss suspected everyone had been wondering about the poor child of Haymitch and Maysilee.

With a deep breath, Katniss began to sing. It seemed to cleanse her. She became calm, and it suddenly didn't matter if everyone was looking at her. It didn't matter that Katniss felt lonely and confused. The singing reminded her of a time she'd loved to return to.

When it was over, the class clapped. Katniss sat back down, and wished the day were over.

She ate the lunch Father packed. She listened to Madge talk about the District. She said "Hi" to numerous children who wanted to meet her.

When the final bell rang, and she was putting her backpack on her back, Katniss turned to walk out of the classroom door and found herself face to face with someone she hadn't met yet.

It was a boy, who she had noticed sat in the front of the class. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, like most everyone in town did.

At first, he didn't say anything to her. Then he smiled, and she blinked. His smile was bright and so, so happy.

"You have a really pretty voice," he said. To her chagrin, he shyly handed her a daisy. It was slightly rumpled, but somehow that was fitting to her.

She took it out of his hand and smiled back. Something about him just oozed happiness.

"Thank you. I'm Katniss," she said awkwardly, figuring he probably already knew that.

"I'm Peeta."

She would have giggled at his name, but she didn't really have the right. He was named after bread; she was named after a plant.

"You walking home? Don't you live in Victor's Village?" Peeta asked.

Katniss nodded. "My father is supposed to meet me outside."

Peeta nodded, looking disappointed. "Well, maybe sometime we can play after school. I live on top of the bakery. My parents own it."

Katniss nodded once more. "That's cool. You can come over and play with the geese too, they're funny."

By this time, they'd walked outside, and Katniss could see Dad waiting next to a tree, trying desperately to avoid other parents.

"I better go find my brothers. They'll be waiting for me," Peeta said.

"See you later," Katniss whispered.

Something about the only child who hadn't asked her about her new living arrangements, or her old living arrangements, intrigued her. Peeta had complimented the one thing Katniss felt sound on being complimented on. She loved to sing.

Dad looked at the daisy. "That looks kinda sad, doesn't it?"

Katniss glared at him. She messed with the stem a bit to make it stand taller.

"I like it."

Dad shrugged and gave a laugh. "Okay, sweetheart. Find any friends?"

He took her hand again and led her away. For some reason, she knew that Dad wouldn't like being asked about Madge and her family. So she focused on Peeta.

"The boy that gave me the daisy was nice. He said his name is Peeta. He lives at the bakery."

Dad visibly tensed. "The bakery?" His voice snapped.

Out of all the details Katniss had expected him to have a problem with, the bakery wasn't one of them.

"Yeah, he said his family owns it," said Katniss, completely confused.

He refused to say another word. It upset her more than she would have liked. Katniss had actually been starting to finally get along with her father, and now he was acting distant again.

When they were home, and Katniss was ready to run to her room and hide, he grabbed her shoulders and sank down to be eye-to-eye with her.

"Katniss, I'm sorry. Don't be upset. I've just been running from my past for so many years that the old wounds still sting. I'm sure your friend is nice."

She nodded, gesturing to the daisy. "He told me I sing pretty."

Dad carefully removed her Mockingjay pin. "I bet you do."

Katniss felt tears coming to her eyes. "Then why are you so upset? I just want us to get along! I'm tired of always being afraid that I'm going to say the wrong thing! I just want to be a family. You're all I have."

Dad sighed. "I know, sweetheart. It's okay. I'll try to be more bearable."

He kissed her head and let her go. She was halfway to her room when she heard his voice again.

"Peeta's father . . . the baker? He used to be best friends with your mother."

Katniss turned and looked at his rumpled form. She stared.

"I thought I'd lose her to him, once."

Katniss felt disgust run through her. Despite how much pain Mama had always been in, it felt wrong to say that she might have one day loved someone other than Dad.

"You didn't. She loved you. I'm sure of it."

Dad flinched and recoiled. He turned away without another word.

Katniss sighed and went to follow him, but thought better of it when he emerged from the kitchen carrying a bottle. He had been trying not to drink, but even in her seven-year-old mind, she could tell it was hard for him.

After going into the kitchen herself, she made her way back to her room with a glass cup.

Katniss placed the cup on her windowsill, put the daisy inside, and stared at it. It brought a little bit of personality to her room, which so far was plain.

That was the first night Katniss went to sleep believing that maybe one day, things in this District would be as pleasant as they had been for her when Mama was still alive.

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An Author's Note: This is just a little introduction to their story. Please let me know what you think! Also, I want to mention that this story is not about Katniss growing up with Haymitch. The next chapter flashes forward in time.


	2. The Storm

**Chapter One:** The Storm

_Nine years later_

There were no animals in the woods.

Katniss used all her knowledge of tracking to find a trace of anything, but there was nothing to find. No matter how far she followed the little footprints or broken branches, there were no signs of rabbits, deer, or squirrels.

Placing the tip of her bow on the ground, she leaned on it lightly as she looked around. Sun peaked through the tips of the trees, and shone across the vast valley in the clearing up ahead of her. Turning her head, Katniss saw the stream still flowed quickly, filled with clear water. When the wind blew, it carried small remnants of what Katniss knew was the smell of coal, but it had been like that for as long as she had lived in District Twelve.

What would cause all the wildlife to suddenly scatter?

It gave her chills to stand in the forest, listening for any sign of life, but hearing nothing. The wind and the water were her only friends today. With slight trepidation, wondering if whatever scared the animals off would come for her, she gave up hope of hunting and decided to return home.

Her leather boots, one of the only luxuries she'd ever allowed herself to have with Dad's money, creaked as she stepped over leaves. Usually she was stealthy, but today there weren't many other noises to cover up the sound of her movements.

Katniss was half-tempted to take her bow and arrow all the way back to her house for protection, but decided against it as she walked past the tree where she usually stored it. Covering it up with branches and leaves, she stepped away with a deep breath.

No one in the Seam knew it was her who provided for them on occasion; she mainly hunted to let out frustration, and the poorest families who couldn't afford to eat would get her catches. She preferred to remain anonymous – no one really liked her much anyway, and she couldn't handle it if they started being nice to her only because she fed them. After all, even though it made her feel good to help them in some way, the main reason they got anything was because she was trying to help herself. There were days that she just got so angry at the world that she _wanted_ to harm someone, and so she'd come out into the woods and cool off by aiming arrows into the woodland creatures. She blamed her parents for her sadistic hobby. Anyone born to two crazies like them had to turn out nearly as insane.

The closer Katniss got to the old fence that had once kept the members of District Twelve trapped, the more suspicious she got. There was a buzzing, almost as though a thousand bees were swarming somewhere near.

She looked around her, almost frightened, but saw nothing once more. Everything still looked overly serene with the sun glistening on the tree leaves and the wind softly blowing the grass.

It wasn't until Katniss was in sight of the District, just to the point where she could see the houses in the Seam, that she discovered where the noise was coming from.

A trickle of fear ran from her toes to her fingertips.

The fence, which had been retired for fifteen years, was buzzing with electricity.

Katniss stared at it in amazement. She couldn't believe the thing actually still worked. Most importantly though, why was it working?

She stood just behind the tree line, looking for a way to crawl underneath it, or maybe an opening. The entire thing had once been practically demolished – only pieces of it had stood for many years. Eventually though, when people started complaining about wildlife stealing their food and harassing their children, it had been rebuilt hap-hazardously.

Now though, electricity was actually running through it. There was no way she could crawl under the piece she usually did; she'd be fried if she tried. Katniss looked towards the houses to see if anyone else had ventured to look at it, but no one had. What could have made them turn it on? Madge hadn't mentioned that her father, the mayor, was considering it. And there hadn't been any recent animal attacks. No one had run away, either, that she knew of. Even if they had, it was perfectly acceptable. Anyone could leave as they wished, to go wherever they wished. District Twelve didn't put that many limitations on their citizens, and the Capitol rarely bothered with them anymore. After all, they had only recently begun to actually look like a civilization again, fifteen years after the bombing.

Katniss was still debating on whether to hide in the woods until she knew what was happening when she heard it.

Screams, horrible, heart-wrenching screams were coming from inside the fence.

For most people, that might have been the moment they decided to stay safely in the woods until everything was safe. But for Katniss, that was the moment she decided she _needed_ to go back inside the District.

Heart pounding, she glanced around the area to see if there was anywhere she could pass across the fence. There wasn't anything on the ground, but there was one giant tree about ten feet from her whose branches dangled up and over the fence.

With a deep breath, she ran out into the open and dashed for the large pine tree. She wasn't the best at climbing, although she had to occasionally to scout for animals. Her boots slipped a couple of times, but her arm strength was enough to hold her.

Her hands began to shake, because the higher up she climbed, the more she could hear. Yells and shouts had joined the screaming, and sharp sounds filled the air. Katniss wasn't entirely sure if it was the sound of whips or bullets; the voices overpowered nearly everything else.

When she reached a branch that hung over the fence and seemed strong enough to hold her body weight, she paused and looked into the District.

From this view, she could completely see the town center. A train was pulled up to the station. A small stage had been built, of which she was positive hadn't been there two hours previous when she'd passed through.

What struck her the most, though, were the people. Seam and town folk alike stood on one side of the town square, shouting and cursing at – well, Katniss wasn't entirely sure _what_ they were – the passengers that looked to have gotten off the train.

They were dressed entirely in black, and their heads were covered with a black helmet. In their arms, they held some type of machinery. Katniss couldn't tell because of the black masks that obscured their entire faces, but it didn't look like they were shouting back at the citizens.

A line of black clad men stood nearest to the train, weapons raised, as another line advanced towards the citizens. They surrounded them, forcing them to either be shot or cooperate.

Katniss hung in the tree and watched in horror until she saw more movement. The black figures that had previously been guarding the train were now making their way further into the District and toward the outer perimeters. Heart pounding, she realized they must either be going to search the houses or guard the fences.

Regardless, she was going to be in trouble if she didn't hide immediately. They had cornered what seemed to be the entire population into standing in the town square and were keeping them there.

Katniss dropped onto the muddy ground with a thud. She knew her ankles and knees would be sore later from that landing, but she didn't have time to concentrate on it at the moment; she could hear the sound of the black figures' boots scrunching along the streets.

As she made her way through the District, she became immensely glad that she'd always hidden her identity as the huntress who fed the Seam. Over the years she'd become an expert at avoiding eyes while she carried back her catches, and now it came in handy. Katniss knew which plants, boxes, and houses were easiest to hide behind, and which paths would get her where she wanted to go the fastest.

Home.

Katniss, in her heart, knew she should go into town and find Peeta or Madge, and be with them just in case they were harmed. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to them and she never said goodbye. But her head was telling her to head home and find Dad.

Katniss knew without a doubt that Dad wouldn't be in that town square. He would have died fighting before he'd let any faceless suppressor force him to do anything.

As she neared Victor's Village, after many close run-ins with the newcomers, Katniss could see that no one had attempted to go near the nearly empty row of houses. Be that as it may, she still sneaked around out of sight until she was in her backyard.

The geese were hiding under the porch when she climbed onto it. The door to the house was locked. There was no spare key – Dad barely left the house, and when he did Katniss was usually at home. Besides, hardly anyone dared, or wanted, to come near their house anyway.

With a deep breath, Katniss tried to decide whether to yell for him or break through the door. It turned out it didn't matter, because in the next second the front door opened and she was pulled through it. It slammed behind her.

Dad smelled slightly of whiskey, but when she looked into his grey eyes they weren't glazed over. They were alert and stern. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, which Katniss supposed was their equivalent of a hug, before she realized that he was holding a knife and a bag of bread.

"Go to your room, get whatever's important to you, and meet me at the back door in two minutes. We're leaving."

Katniss felt her heart pump fast as she watched Dad hurry into the kitchen. He opened the cupboards and dumped whatever nonperishables they had into a backpack.

Knowing better than to question him, especially in these circumstances, she hurried down the hall and into her room. Grabbing her school backpack, she dumped it and looked around.

What was important to her? Clothes. An extra pair of shoes. Her brush.

With trembling hands and suddenly teary eyes, she picked up the last possession that meant something to her. A book of drawings Peeta had given her for her fourteenth birthday. Since Katniss wasn't keen on having pictures taken, he'd drawn out multiple pictures of her and Dad, her and Peeta, and of the District itself – the woods, the school, even the entrances to the mines. When Katniss first came to District Twelve, she hadn't been happy at all, but Peeta changed that. He made her see the beauty in everything.

Katniss must have taken too long, because Dad came barreling into her room and grabbed her arm. He pulled her through the house as she tried to stuff the book into her backpack.

"You're damn lucky you came home when you did. Any later and we would have never found each other."

Katniss shifted when his hand began to dig too hard into her elbow. Dad pulled her along out the back door and behind the house. His steps were wide and hurried, and she had a hard time keeping up. Katniss couldn't believe Dad could move so fast – after all, he'd been injured during his Games and he'd spent the better part of fifteen years drinking his liver into the ground.

"What's going on?" She finally breathed. When they'd passed the last row of Victor's houses and started heading towards open field, everything started to sink in.

They were leaving. _Leaving_. Someone had invaded District Twelve and had the people cornered in the town square.

"Dad, we can't! Peeta! I'm not leaving him!"

Dad paused only for a second. "Katniss, we can't go back. He's probably in the town square. He works at the bakery."

She felt the tears before she even thought about crying. "Dad, I can't leave him. What's happening? What if they do something to him?"

Peeta was her best friend – she couldn't leave District Twelve knowing he was in danger and they might never see each other again.

Dad looked around, the whites of his eyes showing more than usual as he pulled her towards the last Victor's house in the row.

"We should have run sooner. I should have known this would happen!"

Katniss wiped her face and shook her head in exasperation as they entered the house and closed the doors. It was built exactly like theirs, only this one was completely bare inside.

"What? Tell me what's going on! I saw a train, and these . . . soldiers . . . cornering everyone in town!"

Dad looked around the deserted house as though someone would be listening. In a whisper, he finally explained everything to Katniss.

"A few weeks ago I got a call from one of my old friends, Finnick Odair. He won the games a couple of years before I was in them, but he's still younger than I am. He was one of the youngest tributes to win in history. Anyway, he's from District Four."

Dad's eyes suddenly held fear in them, and Katniss tried to keep herself from panicking. She had never, ever seen him look so afraid except when he talked about Mama.

"He told me that One, Two, and Four are rebelling against the Capitol. Before the war, they were the better of the Districts, the ones who barely wanted for anything compared to the rest of us. Well, when Coin became President, she changed that. She supposedly distributed all of Panem's resources "equally"among the Districts. Fifteen years later, and the Districts that always prospered are suddenly not so special anymore. They're rebelling because they say it was better for them before Snow was killed."

Katniss was speechless. For years and years, Dad had always warned her that the war would never be over. That the Capitol would always be in control and manipulating them. But she'd always taken it as a broken man's worthless murmurings. She'd never thought he'd actually be right.

Dad peaked out the window before he continued.

"Anyway, now Coin is nervous that every District will start rebelling. She's reinstating guards and putting new limitations in place. Curfews. Limitation of communications to other Districts. Limitations of travel. The same bullshit Snow lived by!"

Katniss was shaking her head before he'd even finished.

"Dad, that makes no sense! Why would Twelve rebel? We're actually _happier_ than before the war. I know I haven't lived here long, but it's a common fact! We have a better local government, and even though a lot of Seam families are starving, we can at least provide for them more than before."

Coin's distribution policy _had_ benefitted them. Each family got a care package of food monthly. It didn't last long, but from what Katniss had learned about the former District Twelve, it was more than was promised before. The rations from putting your name to be drawn in the Games was lesser than what everyone was given now.

Dad shook his head in disgust. "Coin is about power, Katniss. She will go above and beyond to make sure she's the one controlling everything. This has probably been a long time coming, and now the rebellion has just given her an excuse to act on it."

He made to grab her arm again, but she fought him.

"No! I'm not leaving, Dad! Where are we even going to go?" She screamed at him.

Dad made a loud "Shhh" sound before letting go of her arm and placing his hands on her shoulders. With a tight grip, he looked into her eyes and explained.

"Katniss, the first people Coin will come after are you and I. I've been evading them for years; never going to interviews, never making public appearances or statements. I was the sign of the revolution! I rallied the troops, Katniss – and then I disappeared. Now that everyone is suddenly unhappy again, Coin is going to come back to me and order me to remind everyone why having her as President is for the best!"

Katniss's eyes were wide and her thoughts were sluggish as everything suddenly made sense.

Dad's eyes were crazed as he continued. "I can't do it again! It nearly killed me the first time! I didn't want to do it then, and I sure as hell don't want to now."

Katniss was silent as he let go of her shoulders to pull on his tangled hair.

"I always _knew_ Coin would turn out bad," he whispered, and she knew he wasn't talking to her.

Katniss peaked out the window and saw nothing. But it didn't matter – if they were truly in such a hurry before, they'd stalled too long. Someone would come after them soon. In Dad's panic he hadn't been thinking straight when he'd pulled her into the empty house.

"Dad, it'll be okay. Coin has to understand that you have me! Doesn't she feel guilty at all for what they did to Mama? That has to count for something!"

Dad's grey eyes glazed over as they always did when they brought Mama up. His face was suddenly expressionless and cold. He didn't answer her.

Katniss felt like a child, grasping for any strings to make him stay. She knew he was probably right – they would probably be forced to go along with whatever schemes Coin had planned. But she couldn't just leave and be a runaway, especially without Peeta. Where would they go?

"Where would we even go?" Katniss whispered, repeating her previous question.

"The woods. I – I might not be the best in them, but I did survive the Games. I know enough. And you know enough – you could hunt and track. We could survive."

That plan had to sound crazy, even to him. It wasn't even a real plan! What did he think would become of them? Would they hide out in a cave until one day they knew the war was over? Or would they die out there?

"KATNISS!"

Her heart, which had been tightened in fear, suddenly relaxed in relief.

Peeta was calling for her.

Ignoring Dad, she opened the door to the house and saw that Peeta was in the middle of the road, walking around and yelling her name.

"Peeta! Get over here!" She tried to be quiet, but it was hard when he was being so loud.

His blonde hair flapped in the wind as he jogged towards the house. With relief, she noticed that no one was following him.

The closer he got, the more she could see how distressed he was. His usually happy face was pulled into a frown and his movements were frantic.

Katniss heard Dad walk out onto the porch behind her and sigh.

"Katniss!" Peeta said again, this time quieter and filled with relief.

"They let you away?" Dad asked, now standing right beside her.

Peeta's blue eyes shot to his face and then down to the bags in their hands.

"What's going on?" His face was hurt and his voice cracked. Katniss felt guilty even though she hadn't wanted to leave without him.

"Nothing," she cut Dad off as he went to explain. "What's going on in town is a better question."

Peeta glanced back towards the way he'd come with a worried look on his face.

"I was there and I still don't understand," said Peeta, his voice incredulous. "The mayor was freaking out all morning, trying to find a stage to build. He wouldn't tell anyone what was happening. And then, out of nowhere, that train arrived and all those soldiers just emptied out of it and stood there. Everyone came out from the shops and their houses . . . I'm sure you must have heard them calling for everyone?" Peeta asked, looking at both their faces.

Katniss hadn't been inside the District, but she wasn't about to interrupt. Dad nodded though, a distasteful look on his face.

"When we were all gathered, this man, I guess he's their leader, stood up and started telling us about how there would be guards in the District from now on. They're going to stand on the perimeters of the electric fence, near the mine entrances, and in the town square."

Dad sighed loudly and sat down on the porch. Katniss stared into Peeta's eyes, and she knew from the sad expression on his face that her, and their joint, trips to beyond the District limits would have to come to an end. Some of her best memories were from exploring those woods – watching Peeta scare away the wildlife no matter how hard he tried to be quiet, learning how to swim in the lake, and of course, her personal time with her bow and arrows.

Katniss's eyes wandered towards the direction of the tree she'd climbed to avoid the fence. She couldn't see it from here, but she could just imagine it. She would no longer have an excuse to go towards the woods, because she had no reason to go into the Seam. What would become of her bow and arrows? Maybe she could escape just once more and retrieve them . . .

Peeta sat down next to Dad and sighed.

"And everyone just started going crazy. They started shouting that they didn't need to be guarded, that nothing is wrong with us. And the guards raised their weapons and started firing. No one was really hurt – I don't think they were actually aiming for people, they were just trying to control us."

They were all silent for a moment. No more screams or shouts could be heard from the center of town, or anywhere else.

"They're also placing us on a curfew. Anyone caught outside from 10 PM to 4 AM will be punished."

Katniss gasped and looked at his face again, finding this the most surprising.

"And -" Peeta went to continue, but Dad stood up abruptly and angrily grabbed the backpack he'd been carrying.

"Stop! It doesn't matter what their little rules are. We're leaving."

Katniss glanced at Peeta, wondering if he would be willing to leave his family and come with them. His eyes met hers, and she saw the pain in them. Katniss was probably the only person in the world that understood exactly what his troubles were – he wanted to come with them, and he would, but it meant something different to Katniss than it did to him.

He had never kept it a secret how much he loved her. And yet she felt she was incapable of love. Katniss had spent years pushing him away until he got mad at her, only to beg him to forgive her when she missed him.

But this was different than ever before; Dad and Katniss might be leaving for good, and she'd probably never see him again if Dad got his way and they lived in the wilderness.

A phone rang from inside the empty house. Dad froze and turned back towards the front door, a look ranging from surprise to acceptance on his face. Katniss felt chills go up her spine for reasons she didn't know. It was just too creepy: She hadn't even known the deserted house had a phone line and now it was suddenly ringing, right when they were on its porch?

Dad, for reasons she didn't understand, considering he usually hid away from most people and refused phone calls at their own house, went inside and picked it off the receiver.

Peeta stood and stared at her. Katniss let him take her hand and hold it.

After what seemed like a long time, possibly half an hour later, Dad exited the house. His face was blank and his eyes dead. He moved to walk past them, but Katniss held her free hand out to stop him. Was he really not going to tell them what the phone call was about?

Dad swatted her hand away and walked down the porch steps.

"Just President Coin, sending her regards. Asking me a _favor_."

Katniss's heart tightened and she squeezed Peeta's hand hard.

Dad started walking fast in the direction of their house. Katniss let go of Peeta and ran after him.

"Dad!" She called, even though she didn't know what he was doing, or what she could do about it.

When he reached their house he made to go near the geese. Katniss was almost relieved for a moment, thinking that maybe he was just going to distract himself with them. Her hopes were dashed when he started screaming and cursing and shouting.

"We have to stop him," Peeta whispered, suddenly beside her and out of breath. But they both just stood there in shock as Dad seemed to come undone.

He pulled at his hair and spit, and Katniss could have sworn he was crying. To her horror, he pick up one of the geese, and seemingly without thinking, snapped its neck in half.

Katniss screamed tried to stop him, but Peeta put his arms around her and wouldn't let her go. It was times like this when Katniss wished Peeta wasn't used to carrying around large bags of flour – she had no hope of escaping his grasp. Instead, she had to watch as Dad threw around the geese's dead body, blood and feathers flying everywhere.

Tears were falling down her face as she looked at the scene. She had never, ever thought Dad would actually live up to all the stories she'd heard – of how he'd brutally killed during the Games, how he used to sleep with a knife before she'd arrived, of how he'd led troops into battles with the Capitol that had slaughtered hundreds. But looking at the man in front of her, there was no doubt in her mind that that other man was still inside him.

It wasn't until Dad started screaming horrible things about Mama – things that Katniss had never heard before - that Peeta pulled her towards town and away from her crazed father.

"Destroyed her – Jabberjays – SHE _LOVED_ ME!"

Katniss grabbed Peeta's arms and tried to get him to stop. "Peeta, we can't leave him! What if he – What if he tries to kill himself?"

Peeta's grip loosened and his blue eyes looked conflicted as he studied her father, who was now lying on the ground, wholeheartedly crying.

Peeta sighed and let her go completely. But Katniss was still too afraid to approach him. She knew Dad, and he had always tried his best to be as normal as possible around her. If he was truly letting go, it was hard to tell what he might do if she got too close.

Instead, Katniss and Peeta stood behind the fence separating the yard from the road, and watched as Dad murmured the same thing over and over again.

"Hunger Games, Hunger Games, Hunger Games . . ."

* * *

AN: I thought I'd post the first chapter the same night I posted the prologue just to give a better idea of the story. Please review? :)


	3. Games

**Chapter Two: **Games

Hands stroked her hair as she stared blankly into the mirror.

Katniss's grey eyes flashed to the woman behind her.

"Such beautiful hair," the older woman whispered, twisting her hair into a look Katniss supposed was attractive.

Effie Trinket was at least forty years old and she still had a ridiculous obsession with everything pink. Her dress, her hat – even her contacts were pink. If Katniss felt like her usual self, she wouldn't have let the delusional woman touch her. But Katniss was just so tired from everything that had happened the past couple of days that she didn't protest.

Effie touched the collar on Katniss's best dress, a black dress she'd worn to a funeral a year ago, and clucked her tongue in disapproval.

"You should have let me bring you something, dear. But I suppose this will do."

The woman's cheery voice was already making Katniss sick. She couldn't put up with it for much longer.

"Where's Dad?" Katniss asked, looking into Effie's disturbing pink eyes.

Effie paused, the happy look on her face turning into disgust, and glanced out the bathroom window towards the backyard.

"Getting ready."

Katniss let Effie spray her with perfume, but refused to wear the heels she'd picked out.

Glancing down at the woman's face as she tried to convince Katniss that the bright red pumps were necessary, she suddenly had the urge to take advantage of this horrible situation.

"Effie – weren't you with my dad when he was in the Games?"

Effie froze, her eyes wide, before forcefully yanking the heel off of Katniss's foot.

"Fine. No heels then."

Katniss was surprised Effie would avoid a question about the Games – she had seemed like she was enjoying this entire process.

"Seriously. Weren't you his, um, counselor or something?"

Effie glared at her and pointed her finger.

"What is in the past, is in the past, young lady. Right now, I am here to make sure he shows up to the reaping, and in the process make you look presentable! You know children used to love getting dressed up for this day!"

Katniss highly doubted that, but she didn't openly disagree with Effie.

"Now, we have to be in town by two. You'll go up to the desks, get your finger pricked – just to prove you attended – and then you'll stand with your age group. The Capitol has a special video they want to play, and then I'll pull out one girl's name and one boy's name."

Effie paused. Katniss looked around at her, waiting to see what else she would say. The woman's face suddenly didn't look as excited as it had before.

"Today is a big, big, big day," said Effie quietly, glancing out the window once more.

Katniss stared hard at Effie's powered face. Was it possible that she was being forced to participate also, just like Dad? Was her cheery rambling just an act? Before Katniss could think of anything to say, Dad appeared at the door, his eyes red and his nicest shirt rumpled.

"Haymitch!" Effie hissed, rushing over to him and rubbing dirt off his face. He scrunched up his nose and slapped her hand away.

"I want to talk to Katniss." His voice was deeper than usual and slightly slurred. He hadn't been this drunk for a while. Effie reluctantly pulled her hands away from him and dropped them to her sides in defeat.

"Fine," she said, glancing between them sadly. With clicking heels, she walked out of the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Katniss felt her hands starting to shake as her and Dad stared at one another. He might have been drunk, but he was still alert.

Without knowing exactly how it happened, Katniss found herself wrapped up in his arms. He definitely smelled like alcohol, but in a strange way that comforted her. It was one of the few hugs they'd ever shared. Dad kissed her head sloppily and whispered in her ear.

"They're going to pick you."

Katniss shook harder. She felt Dad running his hand over the twist of her hair Effie had created.

"It's all my fault," he whispered. Katniss closed her eyes and tried not to cry. Throughout the years, they hadn't had the closest relationship, but they had definitely been a team. They'd built their own little dysfunctional family. They needed each other. It meant a lot to Katniss that Dad wasn't retracting into himself and refusing to talk. She needed him to be there.

Katniss didn't even try to argue with him. She'd suspected, ever since Dad had gotten that call telling him he was the mentor of the District Twelve tributes in the upcoming Hunger Games, that she might be in danger.

Katniss refused to let go of him. She held him tight in her arms. Dad pulled his face away from her neck and took a shaky breath.

"The video will tell you everything about these Games, Katniss. But I just want you to know something before anyone else tries to tell you."

Katniss loosened her grip on him, but he still didn't move away. She both heard and saw him swallow a couple of times before he spoke again.

"I've never told you what they did to us. I didn't want you to hate us. But I can't bear the thought of someone else twisting the story and making it even more horrible than it already is."

Katniss barely breathed. Was she finally, _finally_, going to learn what had really happened between Haymitch Abernathy and Maysilee Donner?

Dad let go of her and made to sit on the bathtub, refusing to look anywhere near her.

"I didn't know her, before the Games. I – I mean, I'd seen her, in town and school sometimes, but I was from the Seam and she was a merchant's child. Back then, prejudices were even higher than they are now. We never interacted. Until the day we were both reaped."

Dad's voice sounded completely sober now. He paused and glanced up at her only once.

"I knew that my life wasn't going anywhere. My family was poor, and the only job I could ever get was in the coalmines. But Maysilee, she had something special about her. She was the daughter of the man who owned the candy shop – she was always cheery and bubbly and nice, even once we got to the Capitol. I knew that I couldn't let someone who had such love of the world die. That's how it started. Me trying to protect her, just because I thought she deserved it. I never thought I'd actually fall in love with her."

Katniss stared hard at his face, which was softer than she'd ever seen. It surprised her greatly that the story was true; that her parents had actually been in love. Her whole life, she'd been convinced she was the product of the Capitol's manipulations. But that look he wore as he told his story . . . it was real.

"When we got to the arena, I did everything I could to keep everyone away from her. I got injured a couple of times, and would have eventually died, had the Gamekeeper not changed the rules. Towards the end, they told us that two of us could survive – but only if we came from the same District."

Dad trailed off into silence. He was silent so long that Katniss wondered if he was going to finish. It struck her as familiar; Mama had always retreated into silences when her pain became too much to bear.

"Anyway, we survived together," he abruptly spoke. "I couldn't believe that she liked me as much as I liked her. I've never really been a likable person, sweetheart. And then they changed the rules again, when it was just the two of us left, and I was going to let her kill me. But Maysilee always had a childlike quality to her – she always believed there was a way to get through anything. We ate berries we knew to be poisonous, intending to both die if we couldn't both survive, but the Capitol intervened before we could swallow them."

Katniss had known most of that, although it was strange to hear it coming from Dad's point of view.

"We got to come home. For a couple months, everything was perfect. I actually thought we'd get a happily ever after and everyone would just leave us alone. All of Panem was enraptured with our love story, and wanted us to be happy. Everyone except Snow. He wasn't pleased that we'd outsmarted them with those berries. When it was time for the Quarter Quell, he made us go back in the arena with other previous victors."

Dad shook his head and sighed. "We were going to be married. She was pregnant with you. It was just a nightmare. But there was nothing we could do. We were the only two people alive that could represent District Twelve – just as Snow had intended."

They both turned their heads towards the window when they heard Effie shouting and multiple quacks from the geese. Dad continued on anyway.

"To this day, I don't know everything. But there was an entire rebellion that had been building up for years, and they took our fame as the lovers from District Twelve and turned us into a symbol to rally the rebels. The Quell was equally as horrible as our first Game, especially on the night they planned to extract us from the arena."

Dad buried his face in his hands. "We got separated. The rebels recused me, and the Capitol captured her. She tried really hard, Katniss, she fought and was able to send us a warning about an attack . . . but they still got to her. They placed false memories of me in her head, making her believe that I wanted to kill her. It turned her completely against me. The rebels eventually recused her, but it was too late. She was convinced I was the enemy. By that time, you were already born. I don't know what they did with you; I didn't even know you had survived to be born until after the war was over."

A lot of her years with Mama suddenly made sense. Katniss had always blamed Dad for the horrible nightmares Mama would have, and for all the pain she seemed to be going through. It wasn't completely untrue; Mama _had_ thought Dad caused all of it. But looking back on those years, before Mama had eventually just wasted away, Katniss swore she could remember her having moments of clarity. Moments when Mama would almost smile when someone mentioned the Games to her.

"So you came here, and she decided to stay in the Capitol?" Katniss whispered. Dad nodded.

"I never talked to her again. The last real conversation we had was in the Quarter Quell arena. When the rebels brought her to our hideout . . . she was already gone."

Katniss sat next to Dad on the edge of the bathtub and held his hand. For the first time in her life, she completely understood why he was the person he had become. She could understand all of his ramblings about the Capitol. She couldn't even blame him for drinking; would she be able to handle what he had without going mad?

It was probably the first time she had ever openly felt love for him. Sure, if asked, she would say she loved him – he was her father, and he had always been there for her, even if it was in an unconventional way. But now, Katniss could really appreciate him.

"I wish you would have be able to know her, Katniss. She was wonderful."

Katniss looked at him cautiously. "Well, I did live with her for seven years."

Dad shook his head. "No. Believe me when I say, that wasn't her. I've talked to her doctor, and he said she never came close to recovering. The only reason they let her have you is because you seemed to help her. You gave her hope."

Katniss remembered all the times she'd had with Mama. Most of them consisted of Mama staring blankly ahead. Some of the memories were pleasant though; the times they'd laughed at the funny Capitol fashion trends, or when Mama taught her to read. But comparing them to the times she'd had since with Dad - they were obviously different. Dad tried his hardest to provide pretty dresses for her, even when it made him uncomfortable to take her to the tailor's. He'd tried to help her with math and science, and he'd even gone over the District's history with her when she became too bored with reading her schoolbook. Mama had never taken such initiative. If anything, Katniss had to take care of her: brush her hair, cook her food occasionally, and make sure she took her medication.

"I just know they'll pick you," he whispered again. "These Games have a purpose, sweetheart. They always have, but these ones especially are going to change us all."

Katniss couldn't deny that even though she knew nothing of the Games (as Dad refused to inform her of anything) that she'd had a dreadful feeling growing in her stomach as the reaping approached.

"Coin always hated me. I never liked her either. She'll love to finally get to me. She couldn't touch me before, you see. I was their little poster boy; if she harmed me, or made me angry, I could easily kill her rebellion. Now, though . . . she's the President, and I'm a father. She'll take away the only thing that still gives me life."

Katniss blushed, surprised at his heartfelt words.

"If I do get chosen, Dad, you'll be there. You can help me win, I know you can," she whispered.

"HAYMITCH! I'M GIVING YOU TWO MINUTES TO GET OUT HERE BEFORE I DRAG YOU INTO TOWN!"

Effie's shrilly voice made them both jump. Dad started to get up, the look on his face as though he wanted to strangle his former counselor.

Katniss made him focus only on her though. "Dad, it'll be okay. I promise. We'll get through this. You didn't survive two Games and a war to have things end like this."

Dad raised his eyebrows at her. Katniss knew she wasn't usually so optimistic. In fact, over the years she'd become quite the pessimist.

He struggled with words for a second. "Just be ready, Katniss. Those cameras will be on you the second you walk in that square, regardless if you get reaped or not. People have been wanting a glimpse of you for years."

Katniss scowled, knowing his words were true. "Then we better go now, _before_ Effie causes a scene."

When they got to the kitchen, it was obvious that Effie had powered her face once more. It was completely white with large, pink circles of blush on her cheeks.

"Looking lovely as ever, Ms. Trinket," Dad rolled his eyes. Effie glared and snapped her fingers.

"I know you better, Haymitch. You're not nearly as hateful as you try to be. Just remember that."

Effie turned her gaze to Katniss. "Now, I have to escort him to the ceremony early, because he's supposed to have a small photo shoot with the mayor. Make sure you arrive a little before two though, dear."

Katniss nodded and watched as Effie looped her arm into Dad's and forced him out of the door.

"Did someone _order_ you to babysit me, or do you just like me that much?" She heard him grumble.

Katniss watched them walk away from her place near the kitchen window. After waiting a brief moment, she decided to go into town and find Peeta.

She needed to talk to him before the reaping, just in case her name got called.

Katniss entertained the thought of wearing the shoes Effie had brought for her, thinking about what Dad said about the cameras being on her. But Katniss also knew that she'd never worn heels in her life, and today probably wasn't a good day to start. Instead, she grabbed the nicest pair of dress shoes she had, which were dull black flats, and hurried out of the house.

The town was oddly quiet. Ever since a generic, robotic voice had come over their televisions that day Dad got his phone call and announced the upcoming Hunger Games, the people of District Twelve (and most likely every other District) were in an uproar.

So far, there had been no further explanation. The Capitol had just given a date and a time for the upcoming reaping of the Hunger Games.

Peeta's dad, with his greying hair, opened the bakery door when she knocked and gave her a tight smile.

"Hey, Katniss."

Katniss had never attempted to know the man Dad claimed had once been Mother's best friend. But he had always been undeniably kind to her, making sure to offer her smiles and her favorite cheese buns every time she visited.

When she made her way up the stairs to Peeta's room, she found him in front of his mirror and desperately combing his hair down. He wore a white linen shirt and black dress pants. It was the nicest she'd ever seen him look, and she was momentarily surprised. His eyes met hers through the mirror. When he turned to look at her full on, neither of them smiled. Peeta seemed to know something bad was coming, too.

She was hugging him within seconds. Peeta drew in a deep breath and touched her hair.

"This is new."

Katniss pulled back and suddenly felt embarrassed. "Effie Trinket did it for me. She says I have to look presentable for the cameras."

Peeta ran his hand through his hair nervously. "You've always been presentable."

Katniss normally would have laughed at his odd compliment, but today it just made her smile slightly.

"I needed to come see you before this mess begins," she whispered, turning serious.

Peeta looked away from her and shook his head multiple times. "Don't talk that way. You don't know you'll be chosen. You and your dad have always been overly negative. The people are already rebelling, Katniss. It would just make them angrier if you got thrown into it."

Katniss had considered this also, but she wasn't sure it would be enough to save her. The way Dad was acting she was practically already chosen.

"Peeta, I need to talk to you just in case."

His blue eyes, which were always kind and soft, looked at her in surprise. And with hope.

Katniss could barely stand herself. She'd spent years breaking his heart. Their friendship had started out like any other, but as the years went by it was clear it meant more to Peeta. She'd never been able to face her own feelings, knowing what kind of track record her parents had and expecting nothing better from herself.

But Peeta, the idiot, had faithfully stood by her side through everything and had taken every punch in the heart she'd given him.

Thinking about what today could bring, Katniss knew she couldn't leave him behind without giving him some truth. Since they were seven, he'd been the only friend she'd really had. Madge had been there, of course, but that had been different considering she was technically family. Peeta had gone on adventures with her in the woods, and drawn her pretty pictures, and made her feel like she was somebody special when no one else could.

"I guess . . . I just wanted to say . . . that, um . . . " she uncharacteristically rambled. Katniss cleared her throat.

"You don't have to," Peeta whispered. She glanced up at him. He thought she was humoring him.

"No!" Katniss said angrily and walked forward to grab his shoulders. "No! I do have to. You're my best friend, Peeta! You've given me everything, and I've given you nothing! I just need you to know that . . . I love you as much as I'm capable of loving someone." Her hands shook as she released him and she refused to meet his eyes.

Peeta gave her another hug. His embrace was warm and familiar and it calmed her down.

"I have a million things I want to say to that, Katniss. But I'm not going to. We're aren't going to have this talk only because you think you're going to go away and never come back."

Katniss wanted to argue some more, but bit her tongue and pushed a strand of his hair down that was sticking up on his head.

"We'll see," she whispered.

They both sat in his bedroom until the noises of everyone outside interrupted their quiet peace. Katniss held Peeta's hand as they both moved over to look out his small window.

"Why do you really think they're doing this?" She whispered. Peeta didn't answer at first. His eyes studied the dozens of children on the street below them, most of them crying and begging their parents to take them back home.

"Power," he finally said.

Katniss knew that was the obvious reason, but it still didn't add up in her mind. Someone needed to teach these Capitol officials the right way to hold power and govern people. There had to be a way to have power over the people and still earn their respect. No one in Panem had figured out exactly how yet, though.

"We'd better go, Ms. Abernathy. The press will probably want their close up of your face to broadcast across the Districts tonight."

Peeta's teasing words had been meant to lighten her spirits a little, but all they did was make her nervous.

"I'm not a people person."

"Neither is your dad, though, so I doubt they're expecting much from you. It'll be fine, Katniss. After the reaping you can come over to my house and I'll teach you how to make chocolate peanut butter pies."

Katniss gave a laugh at his unexpected offer. "Just what I've always wanted."

The guards were ever present as lines of children poured into the square. A large stage and screen was set up, and Katniss could already see Dad slumping in a chair on it.

"Will you stay at home when your dad leaves for the Capitol?" Peeta asked.

Katniss hadn't really considered that before, but she supposed she would just keep living at home. She was sixteen; she could handle it.

"The same as I do now," she murmured. Peeta and Katniss got in the line of children waiting to have their fingers pricked. Katniss didn't understand how the Capitol officials would know for sure you were actually the child they were pricking – after all, had they ever taken previous blood samples from the children to have something to compare the current ones to?

A man, his black helmet covering his face, took her hand and roughly pricked it. He put a smear of her blood on a piece of paper and motioned her away.

Peeta was forced to stand with the boys. Katniss started panicking, wanting the comfort of anyone. She felt like they were being herded for slaughter. Guards and onlookers surrounded all of the District's children. The parents weren't making anything better; if anything, they were more distressed than the kids. After all, they were the ones who remembered what it had been like before. They cried silently and watched from behind the wall of guards with somber acceptance.

In the background of everything, the Capitol anthem was playing. The screen in front of them flickered on to show different views of all the Districts, from the fields of District Eleven to the sea of District Four. Had it been any other day, Katniss would have found the pictures beautiful. She watched the photos loop on the screen until Effie's voice brought her out of her trance. The woman stood on the stage and clapped her hands to get everyone to stop fussing.

"Happy Hunger Games, District Twelve," said Effie, and Katniss could hear the forced excitement weaved into her voice.

"Now, before the reaping we have a small message from our President."

No one spoke or acknowledged her words. Instead, everyone watched the screen expectantly, waiting for an explanation from Panem's President. Why was this happening?

President Coin's tight face appeared, her hair like a white halo upon her head and her prim and proper Capitol suit like a uniform.

Unsmiling, she greeted her citizens.

"Fifteen years ago, a great tyranny was abolished," the screen panned to clips of war, and Katniss's heart pounded when she saw flashes of her father, albeit younger, standing by Coin at Snow's public execution.

"A government was chosen by the people," Coin being inaugurated, "and for the people. From that day forward, the former suppression that entrapped all of us vanished and led way to a freer, more established form of law."

Multiple videos of food banks, happy TV shows, rebuilding, smiling people, and hundreds of workers who had jobs again.

"And with the former Panem fading into the past, so did the vulgar tradition of the Hunger Games."

Everyone in the square paled and flinched when gruesome scenes of murder and violence flashed before their eyes.

And then, a round table, filled with people Katniss didn't recognize – except three very familiar people. Her mother, her father, and Coin.

"The rebels that helped form this new government swore on our day of independence to let the Hunger Games remain a part of our history and symbolize not only the cruelty of our past suppressors, but also as a reminder of the trust we now had in Panem."

More and more clips of happy faces and vast production throughout all the Districts. Pictures of poor families with food on their tables, and roofs over their heads.

"The trust that our new Capitol would provide for us, help us prosper, and keep us safe."

The video faded out on a smiling young girl. When another image returned, there was no audio. Silent scenes of buildings being set on fire, men and women alike vandalizing public property, and lastly, of protestors outside the City Hall of District One.

Coin's face returned to the screen, her piercing eyes holding what Katniss believed to be fake concern.

"And so, I will uphold the promise I swore by on my day of inauguration. I will keep you safe, citizens of Panem."

Furious murmurings broke out across the town square and a couple of curses were shouted. Guards restrained a man who tried to jump onto the stage and shout at the screen.

"The Hunger Games will be reinstated for one year only, as a reminder to these rebels, that our current government contains more justice, prosperity, and mercy than that of our previous suppressor. To show that while our government holds power over its citizens, we willingly choose to minimize your sufferings."

Katniss's mind was a whirlwind of confusion. The purpose of the Games this year was just to say that the Capitol had the power to reinstate the Games and take them away at free will? Was Coin trying to imply that if they didn't start "behaving" then the Games would return permanently?

Everyone in the square stared in shock and outrage at the now silent image of President Coin. Katniss had never seen so many conflicting emotions on one person's face; solemnity, pride, and some type of twisted pleasantness resided in her small smile.

"Your government stands strong, citizens of Panem. With these words, I bid you a Happy Hunger Games."

The screen went black. Guards automatically aligned the bottom of the stage and twisted around the line of parents watching the proceedings. With weapons drawn, they waited for the attack.

The children waiting to be reaped cried and screamed. But the citizens of District Twelve stood in silent horror and dread as they looked upon the screen and the children. Katniss felt a trickle of fear go up her spine, realizing that nothing could be done. These Games were happening, no matter whether the people of Panem wanted them to or not.

Her eyes were drawn to Dad, who sat slumped in his chair, a forlorn look on his face as he stared off into space.

Effie approached the microphone after a long pause and looked out at all of them.

"May the odds be ever in your favor!" The look on her face didn't match her jolly tone.

"Shall we start with the girls?"

Two separate glass containers sat next to the podium on a stand. Effie drove her hand into the sea of names and quickly yanked it back out.

Katniss could only hear her heart pounding as Effie opened the slip of paper. She paused slightly before reading the name, and it was the only conformation Katniss needed to know.

"Katniss . . . Abernathy!"

Effie's small pause before her first and last name caused quite an uproar. People started murmuring about corruption, but Katniss didn't want a full out rebellion to start at the reaping. It wasn't the time or the place. They needed to wait and plan, and then go at Coin with everything they had.

Without pausing, Katniss held her head high and marched up to the stage. Dad had multiple cameras shoved in his face, and even though she was trying not to look at anyone, Katniss had to look at him.

He kept a purposely-blank expression on his face, but his eyes told her all she needed to know. She would survive. He would make sure of it.

"Now for the boys!" Effie shouted, trying to get everyone else to calm down and move on. The Capitol was monitoring their every move, and all an attack would do is cause unneeded deaths.

"Braddock Emery!"

The boy's section shuffled, and a tall figure with dark hair stepped out of the fifteen-year-olds.

"I volunteer!"

Damn him.

Katniss, who had been trying her hardest to appear unaffected, closed her eyes in anger and fear. When she opened them, Peeta was running towards the stage and pushing past the guards.

Effie looked at him, a shocked look on her face. He'd rendered her speechless.

"I – I know it's allowed! People used to volunteer all the time in Districts One and Two! I want to be a tribute!" Peeta rambled, a look of indignation on his face.

The entire District watched him with somber eyes. Without words, Effie glanced at Braddock Emery, who was slowly backing away from the stage and towards where he'd come. Nodding her pink-tinted head, Effie grabbed Peeta's arm and helped him onto the stage.

Katniss refused to look over at him as Effie placed Peeta at her side.

"And you're name?" Effie asked.

Peeta would only look at Katniss when he answered, his eyes seemingly fixed in horror on her face.

"Peeta Mellark."

"Well, then there you have it District Twelve, your tributes! Katniss Abernathy and Peeta Mellark!"

A few people placed three fingers to their lips and then raised them, in a silent salute. Most people, however, simply stared on, speechless.

Guards led them away from the crowd, who were slowly starting to move towards their houses. Some people shouted and pushed, but Katniss paid them no mind. She hurried ahead of Peeta, refusing to speak to him.

The guards forcefully led them onto a train and into an empty room, housed with multiple plates of foods she'd never even seen before. Katniss sat down angrily at the table and put her face in her hands. Peeta put his hand on her arm.

"Katniss, I couldn't let you go! I . . . you could die!" Normally she would have fought back, but his voiced cracked and it broke her heart. Peeta, in his naïve mind, really hadn't believed she was going to be reaped until it actually happened.

Coin was trying to prove a point. Disobey the Capitol, as Dad had done all these years by blatantly not supporting them, and get punished.

Or perhaps Coin, in her twisted mind, actually wanted to provoke certain people. Or maybe she just hated them all – Katniss had no real explanations, but no matter the reason, it was happening.

With the sound of a slamming door, Dad burst into the room and stared at them both with wide, angry eyes. He went to shout, but looked around the room frantically and sat down on the other side of the table from them.

With a steely expression, he met Katniss's and then Peeta's eyes.

"We need a plan."

* * *

AN: Unfortunately for any Gale or Prim lovers, they probably won't be in this story. I kind of didn't include them cause they just didn't fit. But I guess you never know, since I don't have this completely written yet. Please review? :)


	4. Plans

**Chapter Three: **Plans

"_We need a plan."_

Before Dad could say anything else, Effie tottered in the room carrying an unopened bottle of whiskey.

"Here, Haymitch," she placed it in front of him on the table and made to guide Katniss and Peeta out of the room.

Dad stood up angrily. "I'm not drinking, Effie!"

Any other time, and Katniss would have wondered what was wrong with him.

Effie gripped Peeta and Katniss's upper arms tightly and glared at him.

"Drink it, Haymitch. You _need_ to calm down," she hissed.

Dad glanced at the bottle in disgust and took a deep breath. After a moment, he turned his face back to Effie and put on a million dollar smile.

Katniss and Peeta violently flinched. The expression seemed so out of place on his face that it was alarming.

"Effie, I'm not drinking it because we need to plan our strategies! They need to learn where to find shelter, and what their greatest strengths are, and how to be interview ready. I can't do that very well if I'm drunk!"

Effie and Dad shared a conspiring look and Effie smiled back at him.

"Yes, of course. You would want to get an early start. I'll take this back then, and leave you on your own."

She grabbed the whiskey and exited the room. Dad sat back down and looked at both of them.

"Just needed her out of here. Horrible at planning. She sits here and _watches_, and even though she hears _everything_, she has just never been good at helping tributes."

His message was clear: shut up and smile, because there are eyes and ears everywhere on this train.

Instead of speaking to them again, Dad got up with a huge sigh and left the room.

Peeta turned to Katniss, and in his eyes she could see defeat.

"I can't believe you were right. They actually chose you. I don't understand how!" He whispered.

Katniss didn't want to talk about it. She was sure that her name had been the only one on any of those little slips of paper. Coin was trying to show she had power over her citizens by reinstating these Games, but the only thing it would do is rally more people against her.

Katniss tried to think of anything to say to Peeta to convey what she was really feeling. But for some reason, she didn't think it was a good idea if anyone found out that Peeta and her were close friends.

Peeta was such a fool. He was getting into something that he didn't need to be. If a war really started, he could have stayed on the sidelines and been safe. Katniss wanted to yell at him and beg someone to pick another tribute. But she mostly just wanted to cry. Looking over at Peeta's face, she knew he was in shock over the entire situation. He would probably break down later, and the last thing he needed to do was show weakness.

Dad returned to the room and sat down a brown box on the table. It had postage stamps on it, and looked to be freshly opened.

"The first part of your training." Both of the kids looked up at him instead of going for the package. Dad looked around the room, as if deciding what to do next.

"I'm going to my room. There's a TV in the next room over," he said, pointing to the right wall.

He stomped out of the room without looking at them again and left the door open behind him. Peeta gave a huge, shaky sigh and stood up to examine the box. As he pulled the cardboard flaps back, he looked up at her.

"You think he's going to find that bottle of whiskey?"

Katniss thought he probably was, but she didn't answer him. They both got distracted as Peeta pulled out the box's contents. In his hand, there were at least five videos, and as he tilted the box sideways so she could see inside – she saw there were dozens more.

All of them were labeled Hunger Games.

Peeta looked at the covers with his mouth wide opened. "They were supposed to destroy all the evidence of the Hunger Games when Coin was elected! I can't believe this! And to think that all the other tributes are probably opening a box just like this right now . . ."

Katniss could honestly say that she wasn't really surprised at all. But Peeta hadn't been raised by a conspiracy theorist like she had, so his world was probably crashing down around him as he realized that not everyone kept promises.

Knowing that Peeta could probably stand there all day just staring at the videos, she took the box from him and grabbed his hand.

"Let's go. Let's see what we're going to have to do to survive."

Peeta's arm slacked slightly and Katniss halted to turn and look at him. His eyes were sad.

"Katniss, you know as well as I do that the situation with your parents –both of them surviving – can't happen again. I'm sure the Capitol would rather both of us die than let us have the satisfaction –"

Katniss cut him off by pulling on his arm again.

"Now you decide to be a pessimist? It's a sad day when I'm more optimistic than you, Peeta."

Peeta still looked displeased but he let the subject drop. The room they entered now was smaller but equally as beautiful. A large screen was visible where windows would usually go, and large, fluffy couches sat in a circle around it.

"Do you know how to work this thing?" Katniss asked as she walked over to a projector. Peeta grabbed a video from her and started fiddling to play it. Katniss looked at the title:

38th HUNGER GAMES – VICTOR GISELLE WOODLY, DISTRICT TWO

Her ears started ringing. She put her hand over Peeta's. He looked up at her, alarmed.

"Peeta, put in the 74th Game."

Peeta stared at her wide-eyed. Katniss looked into her best friend's blue eyes and saw his concern. But knowing her, he must realize that this was what she had needed her entire life – to finally, _finally_ know firsthand what had destroyed her parents.

"Katniss, I don't know –" he started rambling, and Katniss cursed his protective side.

"Then put in the 75th Game," she whispered.

Peeta pursed his lips and shook his head. She reached around him to the box and dug through it.

"Dad knew that they'd be in here, Peeta. He would have taken them out if he didn't want me seeing them!"

Peeta grabbed her wrist to try to stop her. "Yes, but Katniss, think about it. You can't un-see it once you've watched those tapes! Do you really need to be unstable when we enter that Capitol?"

Katniss knew he had a point, but a childish part of her still argued.

"Dad told me about them, Peeta. He finally told me. How much can it really hurt me now?"

Peeta let out a breath and let go of her. "Whatever."

She knew that seeing her parents live through these Games would be different than just hearing a short story about it from Dad. But she had to watch them. Katniss fumbled around with the projector. She pressed play and jumped when music started playing loudly. It was clearly the anthem – and yet it was slightly different from the anthem they now had. Coin must have changed it.

Without paying any attention to Peeta, she slowly walked over to a couch and lowered herself on it, her eyes transfixed on the screen in front of her.

She watched as scenes not unlike the ones they'd played at her reaping appeared – a voiceover explaining the rebellion of the 12 Districts, of the annihilation of the 13th. Flashes of the various Districts danced across the screen. They didn't look much different than from how they looked now. The introduction stopped to reveal a cheery man in a purple suit smiling at them all.

"Happy 74th Hunger Games! I'm Caesar Flickerman, as you all know." He winked.

Peeta sat down next to her and grabbed her hand.

"Let's go to the reaping of District One, shall we?"

They watched as two tributes were reaped from each District. Katniss was perplexed at Districts like One – which Caesar called the "Career Districts". They fought over who would fight to their death. It seemed morbid. How brainwashed had these people been, to actually want the "glory" of killing multiple others?

"Money and fame will do wonders for some," Peeta whispered. She looked at him surprised, wondering how he could have possibly known what she was thinking. But he just gave her a smile small – the first he'd had since before the reaping.

When they got to District Twelve and Katniss saw her Dad's young face for the first time, she gasped.

"Wow," she whispered. He actually looked healthy and young. Granted, Haymitch was only in his mid-thirties currently, but years of stress, pain, and drinking had diminished his appearance.

Katniss thought she'd been surprised by her father's appearance – nothing, absolutely _nothing_ – could have prepared her for her mother's face. Maysilee Donner's hair was bright blonde, her skin was soft white, and her face was fiercely determined as she walked up to the stage. Her dress was a clean white and fancier by far than some of the others' in the crowd.

Katniss gapped at her mother's image. Sure, she'd heard stories about how the Games had changed her parents . . . and Dad had told her that he'd wished she could have known Mama. Katniss, at the time, had thought he was crazy – she _had_ lived with her for seven years.

But just by this once glance at the eighteen-year-old Maysilee, Katniss knew he was right. She'd never really known her mother. Maysilee looked whole and despite the nearing danger in her path, untroubled compared to how she lived in her later years.

Katniss realized she was shaking and tears were leaking out of her eyes. She gave small gasps as she watched the screen. Mama had once been her best friend – and now she felt as though she'd known a different person – a person that had only been half of what she could have been.

Peeta gripped her hand tightly. "Katniss, we don't have to watch these. You know that. Haymitch is only trying to get rid of us so we don't see him go crazy."

Katniss ignored Peeta and watched as the scores were released from the training sessions, as the interviews were given, and as the Games started.

"Your dad has always been something, huh?" asked Peeta as they watched him give the camera in the arena the middle finger.

Katniss laughed, finally feeling slightly relieved. Mama might have changed, but it really was clear that Dad had always had an attitude. He'd never lost all of his fire.

Katniss flinched hard the first time she saw him kill – a boy from District Seven had been tracking Maysilee, stealing her supplies when she was sleeping. He wasn't really in the Games for the thrill; he wouldn't have won. Haymitch tracked him as he stalked Maysilee, and when he tried to take her extra blankets and water canteen, he made his move. Silently, Haymitch put his hand over the boy's mouth – he couldn't have been over fifteen – and he slowly but violently strangled him to death.

Their days in the arena dragged on. Haymitch scared away anyone who came close to hurting Maysilee. He went without food and water sometimes when he knew he'd risk exposing himself to her. Haymitch was her ally even though she didn't know it.

It wasn't until the girl from District One – Poppy – tried to put an arrow through Maysilee's heart that Haymitch finally let himself be seen. Without hesitation, he raced into the clearing where Poppy was aiming the arrow at Maysilee's unsuspecting back. With a calculated throw, Haymitch hurled a knife right through the girl's heart.

He turned towards Maysilee with a look of guilt on his face. She stared back at him.

"What do you think you've been doing?" She asked, her hands on her hips.

Haymitch looked unsure of himself and cleared his throat.

"She was going to kill you, and I was just walking past, so I thought I'd –"

He stopped when he saw she was shaking her head.

"You don't fool me, Haymitch Abernathy. Did you really believe I would be so clueless as to not notice you stalking me?"

"Uh . . ." was the only reply he was able to voice.

Maysilee walked closer to him with a calculating look. "You've been protecting me, but the real question is why?"

Haymitch, who seemed to have finally regained his normal sarcastic personality, smirked at her.

"I don't fool you? Then tell me, Miss Maysilee. You should know the answer."

Maysilee didn't reply. Instead she walked over to the lifeless girl and carefully took the bow and arrows from her. She glanced at Haymitch as she walked away.

"I'll make you a deal. You keep protecting me as long as I can protect you?"

Haymitch gave a short, incredulous laugh, as though her words amused him. He quieted when he saw her raised eyebrows.

"And what happens when we're the only two left?" He asked.

Maysilee smiled. "You say that as though it's impossible. Just wait and see, Haymitch. Just wait and see."

They both had fire in them that none of the others had. It was clear to Katniss why Panem had fallen in love with them as they fell in love with each other. No one other than Mama could have possibly sassed Dad back as much as he dished it out.

To her surprise, it wasn't until everyone else was dead and they were facing their own deaths that they actually admitted just how much they cared for one another.

"They lied," whispered Maysilee, as though she was actually surprised that the Capitol's ploy to keep them both alive until the end – the promise that if they were from the same District it would be possible – had been a trick.

Haymitch simply shrugged, defeated, and wiped blood from his brow. The boy from District Eleven had nearly been his end – he'd thrown a large sword at Haymitch, which had thankfully only scraped his forehead as it passed.

"It doesn't matter, Maysilee. This is how it was meant to be. Kill me. If you don't, I will. I swear I'll drive this knife right through my heart."

Maysilee was shaking as she grabbed his hand, which limply held the knife.

"I won't let you do that! Haymitch, we can't _die_! We've . . . we've survived this whole thing together! I . . . I actually . . ."

Dad held her hand and it would have almost been intimate, had it not been for the knife.

For the first time since they'd entered the Games, Maysilee looked unsure of herself. She looked up into Haymitch's eyes.

"Say it," he said.

"I – I actually like you. Quite a lot. I don't want you to die," her voice cracked.

Haymitch smirked and pulled his hand away from her. "Thank you. I can die happy knowing that this isn't one sided."

She looked at him incredulously. "And you would have me suffer, knowing that I care about you? You would die?"

Haymitch winced but didn't reply. She shifted a couple of times where she stood, seemingly considering something, before she finally pulled out something from her pocket. When she opened her hand, there were a handful of the poisonous berries they'd just used to kill a girl from District Four. Haymitch looked at them and smiled.

"I knew you'd come around. That seems like a peaceful way to die, too. It'll spare me the pain."

Maysilee rolled her eyes. "No, Haymitch. I won't kill you, and I know you would never kill me. And I'm not letting you kill yourself while I just stand here."

He looked at her blankly, as though she was quite stupid, and shook his head uncomprehendingly. It wasn't until Maysilee poured half of the berries into his hand, and kept the other half, that he understood. Before he could speak, she put a finger to his lips and looked up at him.

"As silly as it seems, I feel like I've never really lived until these Games. You're a big part of why I feel that way. We might not be able to live together, Haymitch, but we can still die together."

And then, for the first time, Katniss's eyes were drawn to the Mockingjay pin on Maysilee's jacket. Haymitch, instead of replying to her words, had reached forward and lightly traced the pin. With a shuddering breath, Maysilee leaned up and kissed him. It didn't last long, but it was enough to convince Haymitch to agree with her. When they pulled back, Maysilee was crying.

"Okay," she said, her words still strong, "on the count of three."

But they never got to three. The voice of the gamekeeper blasted over the intercom, frantically telling them that they were Victors, and within seconds they were kissing again.

Neither Katniss nor Peeta spoke as they watched Haymitch and Maysilee's reunion interview, or as they saw brief footage of their happy time traveling the Districts on their Victory Tour.

When the screen went blank and Katniss turned to Peeta, she was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

"I love you," he whispered.

Katniss stared at him in shock, her mouth wide opened at his pronouncement. Why had he suddenly spoken aloud what they'd silently been avoiding for years? Especially right after that video? After all, Katniss wasn't completely recovered from the shock of it all. Strangely, though, watching the Games had comforted her. She could tell that even though they'd been in a miserable situation, her parents had once been happy people who'd loved each other.

Katniss cleared her throat, trying to think of any reply to that. What was she supposed to say? Peeta, just hours ago, had told her not to say stuff like that just because she thought she might die. Now that they both might die, it was suddenly acceptable?

"No, you don't."

Katniss's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That's what she was going to say, but it definitely wasn't her voice that had said it.

They both spun around and amazingly, Dad was sitting on the couch beside theirs. How long had he been there? From Peeta's shocked look, he hadn't heard Dad enter the room either.

Dad stared at them grumpily. "You're both going to forget he just said that. Things are already a hell of a lot more complicated than they need to be."

Peeta must have been either embarrassed or terrified, because he didn't argue. But Katniss's mind was already elsewhere. Had Dad really been sitting there while they watched his first Hunger Games?

Dad cleared his throat and motioned with his unopened bottle of whiskey towards the screen.

"I had a good strategy, didn't I? Did you notice? Everything worked out well, too, until the end. Then your mother just had to say what Peeta here just said, and it ruined everything. Some situations are just so bad that even love can't save them."

She didn't like Dad's tone at all. He sounded too harsh. He had always tried to be a different person around her, to be a good father. She wouldn't let him become mean and push her away when she needed him the most.

"You don't have to worry about anything, Mr. Abernathy. It doesn't matter anyway. Even if all of Panem knew I loved her, it wouldn't save either of us. The Capitol won't make the same mistake they made when you were in that arena. They'd kill us both before we dared even partner together."

Dad shrugged. "True. I'm sure they already know you're best friends. After all, people normally didn't volunteer the way you did. Especially in the outlying Districts. Not to mention, you looked frantic when you met Katniss on stage."

Katniss felt like her mind was slow on the uptake. She glanced between both of them indignantly.

"Okay, wait a minute. I'm the one that agrees with Mr. Negative over there, and you," she pointed to Peeta, "are supposed to talk us both out of it. Not go along with him."

Peeta didn't offer her a smile like she thought he would. He just looked at her sadly.

Dad sighed loudly and turned on another light in the room. It was suddenly almost overly bright. He placed the full bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him.

"Just in case," he said.

Peeta and Katniss stared up at him. He looked like he was about to lecture them. Dad didn't normally do lectures – but then again, lately he'd been a completely different person.

"If you two can survive the elements, you should be fine. Katniss knows how to protect herself. Peeta . . . you can, um . . ."

He looked at Peeta hesitantly. "You can fight, right? You wrestle?"

Peeta nodded weakly. "Yes, but it won't matter in the end. I'm not going to survive this. I'll die before I let Katniss be killed."

Katniss wanted very much to hit him, but she knew it would only cause Dad to lose his temper.

He lost his temper anyway. Dad slammed his hand down on the table. "That's not a plan. I won't let you do that. I tried that and look where it got me! I won't talk in circles like this! So from now on, if I have to, I will train you both separately. Is that what you want?" He threatened.

Peeta winced but shot a reply right back at him. "But it's the whole reason I volunteered! I couldn't let her go in there alone!"

Katniss crossed her arms and ignored him.

"I'm telling you, Dad. If we can both survive until the end, Panem will want us alive. They'll demand it! Maybe Peeta's right. Maybe a little romance wouldn't hurt."

Peeta looked at her wounded. "I wasn't planning a strategy when I said that! I was telling you the truth!"

Katniss ignored him again and looked at Dad. He shook his head in frustration.

"I can't handle this right now. We still have a couple of days until it all starts. But I will say this: It doesn't matter what Panem wants, Katniss. Just remember that. It only matters what Coin wants. So from here on out, even though I'd rather die than conform, we are going to go along with Coin's planning. Do what she wants."

Dad paused and looked at them both wearily.

"It's the only way you'll live long enough to even think about surviving."

* * *

AN: If I don't update tonight, it'll probably be at least a week since my school starts this week. However, I'm not sure how easy it will be to keep writing this, I'm sort of losing motivation. I know people are reading, but it's difficult to want to continue when no one offers feedback :( Nevertheless, thank you for reading. :)


	5. The Capitol

**Chapter Four: **The Capitol

As soon as Katniss saw the mountains, she knew the train was close to its destination.

For a place that would host her, or Peeta's death, it was quite beautiful. The city was everything she remembered. Tall skyscrapers, long bridges, large houses - all top-of-the-art designs. Peeta, despite his growing fear, was even captivated. He finally let go of her hand and stood up to peer out of the window.

Katniss stood up with him, and they silently took in the Capitol.

The closer they got to the center, the more apparent it was that it wasn't quite as she remembered it. There were hardly, if any, civilians roaming the streets – it was ominous. The Capitol was known for citizens who liked to roam around in their ridiculous fashions, flaunting their money in front of any bystander. But as Peeta and Katniss looked at the Capitol now, none of that was seen.

"Even the citizens of the Capitol are rebelling?" whispered Peeta.

Was that the explanation? Were they staying indoors in protest? Katniss doubted it. More likely, they were being forced indoors. They were being monitored.

When Katniss caught a glimpse of the streets she had known best, in the part of the Capitol her and Mama had lived, she knew for sure that the people were being guarded. A couple of stray soldiers paced on street corners and in front of certain buildings.

"This is surprising," said Katniss. "Most of the former government officials died in the last war. And if they didn't, they moved back to their original Districts. When Coin became president, the majority of District Thirteen moved here. She appointed them as new officials and made it their new home."

Peeta drew his eyes away from the window to look at her suspiciously.

"Yes, but I've seen pictures in magazines and on TV. The people of the Capitol don't look like war-ravaged members of District Thirteen."

Katniss shook her head. "At first, they did. But it must be something about this place or about having power. Eventually, they fell into the same weird customs and fashions as the previous Capitol. That's why it's so strange that Coin is trying to suppress them, of all people. If she's worried the rebellion will spread into the Capitol, her own people, then things must be really bad."

With a snap, the curtain flew down to cover the window. Peeta and Katniss jumped back and were both surprised to see Effie's pink-tinted eyes glaring at them.

"Remember what your father said, Katniss?" She said quietly.

Katniss felt like throwing her hands up in the air and rolling her eyes. She couldn't just stop talking because Dad thought the train was bugged. He'd done plenty of talking to them after they'd watched the tape!

"They already want me dead. What could I possibly say to make things worse?" asked Katniss, not even trying to keep her voice down.

Effie handed her a different dress, one that was dark blue and shiny. Her face was tense.

"You'd be surprised, my dear. Now go put that dress on for when you get off the train. You escaped the press at your reaping because no one wants to travel to District Twelve. You won't be as lucky in the Capitol."

Katniss knew better than to fight with Effie over clothes. She wouldn't win. As she walked out of the room, she heard Effie giving Peeta orders too.

"And you, Mr. Mellark. You can keep your clothes the way they are, but I'm giving you a black jacket to wear. It will refine your outfit. And then, we'll . . ."

Katniss didn't stick around to hear what Effie would make Peeta go through. Instead, she walked along the hall of the train in search of a bathroom. It wasn't an easy task; the train was vast and had multiple rooms for pointless purposes. Katniss had lived in the Capitol at one point, but she still had not been in a place as nice as even this train. Mama had been relatively down-to-earth. It made Katniss think back to all those other tributes – all the ones who had never come home. How had they felt, eating this luxurious food, sleeping in the fluffy beds, and getting made up for cameras, all the time knowing that they were being led to their deaths?

Katniss, even though she thought Dad had always prepared her for the evil in this world, still had a hard time grasping the atrocity that was the Hunger Games. No wonder the people had rebelled. No wonder Dad was their leader – she couldn't think of a better person to go against authority than him.

The navy blue dress Effie gave Katniss was far tighter than she would have chosen herself. It was completely plain, but the material shined all the way from her shoulders to just above her knees. She would never admit it out loud, but the dress did make her look more sophisticated than she'd ever looked in her life.

Just as Katniss was examining her shoes and thinking that they really didn't go with the dress, the door to the bathroom opened suddenly.

She jumped as Effie entered and quickly closed the door behind her.

"Oh, don't you look lovely? Now I brought you two options, dearie. You can wear these blue heels," she held up a pair of navy blue pumps, "or you can wear these silver heels, but in that case I have a wonderful silver blazer that will do wonders with your eyes."

Katniss winced as Effie grabbed her chin and gazed at her.

"Yes, it would make you look much more chipper. Forget about choosing. You're wearing the silver."

Katniss tried not to throttle Effie as she spun Katniss around and started forcing the silver blazer over her shoulders.

"What if I'd been naked, Effie? Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Katniss complained.

Effie just waved it off. Because Effie happened to be wearing tall heels, she was at least half a foot taller than Katniss. Without warning, she undid Katniss's braid from the reaping and combed her hair out.

"I'm going to try and make this look decent. We don't have time to wash it. The Capitol is searching the train briefly, and then we'll be able to get off."

Katniss tried to meet Effie's eyes in the large bathroom mirror, but the older woman wasn't having it. She tousled and fluffed Katniss's hair frantically, trying to give it more volume.

"Why are they searching the train? They own it!"

But Effie didn't answer her again. Instead, she gave a huge sigh and put her hands on Katniss's shoulders. Looking into the mirror, their eyes met.

"It'll do. I'm not nearly as talented as your prep team will be. Just imagine how wonderful you'll look then!"

Katniss frowned. "Prep team?" She asked warily.

Effie started fixing her own hair in the mirror now. "Once we're there, you'll be led straight to your living quarters, the Capitol wants –"

"Effie stop ignoring me! Tell me something _other_ than what the Capitol wants to do with me!"

Effie stopped fooling with her hair and shook her head slightly.

"Katniss, you know as well as I do that I can't answer some of your questions. I am a government employee, believe it or not. It's my job to tell you what the Capitol wants. I'm just doing my job!" She whispered forcefully.

Katniss looked at Effie silently for a moment.

"I'm only trying to protect you," Effie breathed, and if Katniss hadn't been listening closely she wouldn't have heard it.

They stared sadly at each other, and Katniss understood. Just as she hadn't wanted anyone causing a fight at the reaping, Effie didn't want Katniss causing troubles now. It wasn't the right time to go on the defensive. They just needed to wait and see, and then plan. The Capitol was probably expecting them to come in fighting. It would do no good to disobey them now . . .

"Silver really does goes well with your eyes," said Effie quietly, and then she turned and closed the bathroom door behind her as she left.

Katniss was left to stare down at the silver heels Effie had left. They looked uncomfortable and unstable. With difficulty, she managed to try them on and walk a few paces.

There was a knock on the door. Hesitantly, half expecting a faceless guard to be on the other side, Katniss opened the door.

Peeta looked at her nervously. His hair was parted a strange way and he smelled like pine trees.

"Your dad said it's time."

Katniss allowed herself one last moment to feel terrified, and then she took a deep breath and put on a brave face.

"Okay," she said. She walked out of the bathroom and tugged at the sides of her blazer. Peeta looked her up and down.

"Wow. I feel underdressed."

Katniss was immensely happy that Peeta didn't compliment her looks, as it was quite obvious that she looked remarkably different.

"Well I feel overdressed. I'm going to face-plant in front of everyone."

"At least they'll remember you."

Katniss gave him one tiny, barely there, eye-roll and looped her arm into his.

"I don't know what I'll say to anyone."

Peeta shrugged. "Just remember it doesn't really matter what the Capitol thinks. Panem will love you no matter what because you're the daughter of Haymitch and Maysilee."

His words didn't really calm her, but they made her feel slightly better. Optimistic Peeta was back, even if he wouldn't be around for long. She was sure as soon as they started talking strategy again that he'd insist on dying.

She could have insisted, like Effie and Dad, that "_What Panem thinks doesn't matter anymore_", but she was tired of arguing and analyzing. Instead, as they walked the corridor towards where they knew they'd boarded the train, Katniss thought of other things to tell the reporters.

"Maybe I'll act like I'm excited. I'll tell them I love the thrill and the Games are exactly what I need in my life. That I want to carry on the family tradition of winning."

Peeta, who wasn't used to her joking about something so severe, looked at her weirdly for a moment, probably thinking she was being serious.

"That's . . . that's not a good idea. They'd know you're faking the moment you spoke. You've never been a good actress."

Katniss rolled her eyes and nudged him. "I was joking, Peeta, I could never say something so horrible."

"Actually, that sounds like the perfect plan, sweetheart. Go for it."

Katniss, her face red and her eyes narrowed, turn to look at Dad, who had been walking silently behind them.

"Why do people keep sneaking up on us?" It was what Katniss was thinking, but Peeta voiced it.

Dad ignored him and looked solemnly into Katniss's eyes.

"I'm serious, Katniss. That's a good idea. If Coin is trying to gain some type of twisted respect by reinstating these Games, glorifying them to all of Panem would make it look like you support her."

For once, Katniss spoke quietly as she turned her back on Peeta to face Dad fully.

"But _why_? You've been against the Capitol for ages, doing whatever you can to defy them, and all the sudden, when it's most important, you want me to pretend like I support them?"

Dad looked at her, the grey in his eyes turning to steel.

"We've been over this. And even if we hadn't, I shouldn't need to go over it. I will stop at nothing to protect you, no matter what my opinions are. I will do whatever I think needs to be done to save you, regardless of whether or not it's right or wrong. Yes, it is morally wrong to even _pretend_ to agree with the Capitol. But it's the only way, Katniss. Once you're in that arena, and this pertains especially to you because of who you are, they will deal you any punishment they feel you deserve and call it 'entertainment'. I lived through it more than once. Coin is taking away any chance I had at keeping you innocent of these Games, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let her make you suffer. So we are going to play her game until you're out of the arena."

Katniss was quiet as she looked at him. It was a rare moment when she or Dad openly expressed love. It meant a lot to her that he was willing to sacrifice so much just to keep her safe. It was what any parent would do, but she had never thought they were like a normal father-daughter pair. It wasn't that she hadn't believed Dad cared for her – it was more that she'd always believed that he had such a hard time caring for himself that he couldn't care much for others. Maybe these Games, in a twisted way, would benefit Dad and her more than either of them thought possible.

She sighed.

"I'll do it. But Peeta's right. I'm terrible at pretending."

They all flinched when a guard appeared in front of them. He didn't say anything or make any threatening moves, but his presence was enough to disturb them. Looking into his masked face, Katniss briefly wondered if he was even human. Then she remembered the whispers she'd heard over the years about Jabberjays and the damage they'd done to Mama. Maybe the Games weren't the only old tradition Coin had reinstated.

Dad grabbed Katniss's arm to lead her out, and Peeta took ahold of her opposite hand. They exited the train. The first thing they saw was the Capitol's City Hall, which housed the offices of the most important government officials. It was where all the important decisions in Panem were made.

Katniss was surprised to see no one waiting for them.

Hadn't Effie told her to be prepared for reporters?

The guard was silent as he escorted them past City Hall and to the building next to it. It was tall and elegant, but held no official name on the front. By the looks of it, it was probably one of the oldest buildings in the city, reconstructed to look modern.

As they entered the lobby, they were greeted with the sight of tables lining the walls that led to large elevators with transparent glass doors. Seated at the tables were dozens of silent onlookers, watching the guard lead Katniss, Peeta, and Dad through the lobby. They were all dressed in regular, every day clothing. Nothing about them would have stood out to her, except for the fact that there were exactly twenty-six people - thirteen men and thirteen women.

Surprised jolted through her again, but she forced herself to stay silent. It was so quiet that anyone could have heard a pin drop, and the question she wanted to ask Dad wasn't for others' ears.

When they reached the elevator, it conveniently popped open and revealed Effie. The guard motioned them into the small compartment and let the doors close without following them.

"Your rooms are on the twelfth floor because you're from the twelfth district. You will stay there until shortly after dinner, in which time you'll go and have a scheduled meeting with a chosen mentor."

Katniss glanced at Dad from the corners of her eyes. _He _was supposed to be their mentor. Why would they need another?

"What about Dad?" Katniss asked, even though Effie had been avoiding every other question she'd asked.

"I'm sure your father will be fine on his own for an hour, Katniss."

Katniss opened her mouth to elaborate her question, thinking that Effie misunderstood her, when Peeta suddenly asked it for her.

"No, why isn't Haymitch mentoring us?" He asked, his eyes slightly panicked.

Effie looked at him, slightly taken aback, before replying.

"He will be, Mr. Mellark. I haven't explained well enough, I suppose. These mentors are professionals, of one time use only. They are to help you assimilate to the culture of the Hunger Games. I believe you passed them on your way to the elevator. One for each tribute."

"Then why were there twenty-six?" Katniss blurted.

Effie gave her a look that indicated she was slow on the uptake.

"Because, dear, there are twenty-six tributes. Two from each District. My gosh, Haymitch, I thought you'd taught them the basics?" She chastised Dad.

He ignored her, probably because arguing with Effie would only increase his frustration. When the elevator finally reached the twelfth floor, Dad was the first to get off of it.

"I'll be along in a couple of hours! I have to gather together Peeta and Katniss's prep teams, and they're all in a meeting discussing wardrobe choices for the arena. Haymitch, make sure the kids are in the lobby by six!"

Dad opened the only door on the twelfth floor and ushered them inside.

"Haymitch, I'm serious! They need to be down in the lobby by –"

"SIX, DAMN IT I KNOW!" Dad snapped back as he shut the door that separated Effie from them.

The room was large and just about every color of blue Katniss thought existed in the world. Multiple navy blue couches and chairs littered the middle of the room, surrounding a clear glass table in a circle. As the room spaced out, to the left there was an eating area that had everything from blue countertops to blue saltshakers. On the right of the room, there was a long table that she assumed they would eat on, and then behind that was a hallway that led to multiple other rooms.

Katniss was wondering about the color choice, but ignored that question for a more important one.

"Dad, is Coin forcing members of District Thirteen to participate also?"

He walked over to the glass table in the very center of the room, which Katniss realized was already housing his unopened bottle of whiskey. Sitting down on a couch, he motioned them over to sit next to him.

"She is. She couldn't very well keep up her scheme of "protecting the people" without including her own. No one believes any of her garbage anyway, but I guess for appearances sake she had to reap two kids from her District."

"And these mentors? Why would we need them when we have you?" Peeta asked, refusing to let the subject go.

Katniss thought those were good questions but Dad just looked at Peeta unhappily with an unfathomable expression on his face.

He never answered the question.

Instead, he waved towards the large screen that had been placed on the wall in front of them. It was just like the one on the train.

"You're supposed to watch the reaping of the other tributes. Want to get it over with?"

Peeta slouched moodily next to her. "I guess."

Dad picked up a remote and pointed it. The screen came to life with the image of the City Hall right next to the building they were currently in.

They watched as the cameras panned out to the large crowd of Capitol citizens, all looking pale and strange in their normal, down-to-earth clothing that they probably hadn't worn since before they moved to the city. For some strange reason, they'd ditched their fashions and make-up and grins for the somber reaping of their children. Katniss was impressed.

The names stuck in her mind as the reapings continued: Guy, Honey, Clove, Cato, Nigel, Anna . . .

"Finn Odair!"

Katniss watched as the screen showed a young boy, no more than fourteen, looking at the camera with green eyes and light hair. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"Where have I –" she began.

"My friend," Dad cut her off, "it's his son. He was a Victor too. So was his wife, but the Games messed her up. She's a little crazy. We're the only three left with kids, and Coin must have decided to punish us both."

Katniss, although she had no need for allies (she did have Peeta), felt that she would have picked Finn Odair. In fact, if they both weren't facing almost inevitable death, she would have wanted to meet him. Another Victor's child . . . rather, a child of _two_ Victors. _The Games messed her up a little_. Just like Katniss's mother. Finn and her probably would have been friends, had they not been forced to be enemies.

Katniss was so deep in thought over Finn that she spaced out until Dad shut the screen off. She'd missed the other reapings.

Silence.

Then, Dad – "I'm going to shower," he said abruptly.

He had just walked out of the room when Peeta stood.

"Me too," he managed to say before he also disappeared.

Katniss looked after them bemusedly, thinking that they needed better escape techniques. Figuring there was no way she could let them get away with their poor attempts to fool her, she crept toward the hall to see if she could hear them.

"I can't have another mentor, Haymitch. I have my own plan. At least you'll support me!"

They were in a room with the door closed, and although they were whispering it was so heated that she could still hear them.

"I'm not going to argue with you if you want to die. But I'm not letting you go in there and do what I did. If you insist on dying for her, do it far apart – nowhere near her. The Capitol will probably separate you two if they think you're protecting her."

"Not _letting_ me," Peeta spat. "It's my death. I'll go as I please."

"And if you're choosing to go in a noble way by giving your life for her, at least have the courtesy to make sure they won't extract revenge on her for your actions! They've already seen that plan, thanks to me. They'll be looking for it and they won't allow it!"

Peeta didn't answer, and neither did Dad. Katniss stood there for many more minutes, but there was no sound from the room. They'd either killed each other or there was a connecting room that they'd wandered off into.

She decided to look for her room. Katniss didn't really care what it looked like or if it was fancy. When she came across a bedroom that had women's clothing in the closet, unlike the other two rooms she'd quickly searched, Katniss decided to stay there. The reaping had only been a little over a day ago, but the only time she'd been alone since then was to change into her dress, and it wasn't long enough.

Her self-appointed room was themed silver. She figured that even if it wasn't her intended bedroom, Effie wouldn't argue since silver apparently "brought out the color of her eyes". Katniss sat down on the plushy, velvety material on the round bed and ran her hands over it. She finally took off her ridiculous shoes and the annoying blazer Effie had forced on her.

When she laid down, the ceiling she stared up at was mirrored. Katniss stared back at her own tired face. Even though she had intended to find an empty room so she could relax, Katniss instead felt a fire burning in her chest the more she thought about these Games.

"_I will stop at nothing to protect you." _

"_It's the whole reason I volunteered! I couldn't let her go in there alone!" _

"_I'm only trying to protect you!" _

_Go along with Coin. Listen to the Capitol. Ignore the rest of Panem, they don't matter. _

_Stay alive. Let Peeta die for you. _

Their words made her angry. What about her was so special that Peeta would die for? That Dad would stop standing up for what he believed in? That Effie would risk her job for?

What about Peeta's life? His soul was more beautiful than anyone she'd ever met. He would do so much good in the world, if only he had the chance. What would Katniss do if she survived the Games? She would go on living her miserable, frustrated life. She didn't deserve their protection.

Katniss had never felt so confused in her entire life. There would be no happy ending to these Games, even if Peeta and her both somehow survived. There would be a war. Panem would suffer. Did it really matter if Katniss played along with the Capitol? Did it matter if she didn't?

Coin clearly already wanted her dead if she made sure Katniss was reaped.

Dad, Peeta, Effie . . . they were fighting a losing battle.

Katniss couldn't control all of their planning. But once she was in that arena, she would be making all the decisions. She wasn't going to let Peeta die for her. She wasn't going to watch what she said or pretend like she wasn't angry.

The interviews, the mentoring, the training . . . she wasn't going to go along with Dad's plan and pretend like she agreed with it all. She was going to speak her mind. Katniss wasn't going to let Coin change her into some Capitol junkie, begging for her life. If Katniss died, she wanted to die as herself.

Katniss Abernathy hated the Capitol. She hated the Games that ruined her family. She liked to hunt. She loved her best friend, even if she wasn't willing to admit it. She took care of her Dad and his geese. These trivial things made her who she was, and even if she wasn't a spectacular human being, she still had the right to live her own life.

The Capitol, whether under the control of Coin or former President Snow, had taken everything away from her since the moment she was born, perhaps even before she was born. She wasn't going to let them take away her life, or Peeta's life, or Dad's fire, or even Effie's love of fashion.

Panem - regardless of what Dad, or Effie, or Coin believed - was still a very important factor in these Games. Coin was losing the support of her own District by placing them under surveillance and reaping their own children. There were still twelve other Districts outside of this Capitol who were all equally infuriated. The Districts had rebelled once before for the good of the people. Katniss just had to remind them to stay strong. If those reporters ever did come, wanting the opinion of the reaped daughter of the broken Victors, she would give it to them.

For the first time in her life, Katniss didn't feel like she was only her father's daughter in terms of looks. He had been the symbol of the rebellion, even when he was suffering.

If Haymitch Abernathy, of all people, could rally a country against their Capitol, then so could Katniss.

* * *

AN: This chapter ended up nothing like it was intended. It's not the best chapter, but it was needed to establish that Katniss isn't going to just give up and listen to whatever everyone else is telling her to do. In the next chapter, Peeta and Katniss will be meeting their mentors, who (hint) serve more than one purpose in the games. Thank you to the reviewers, and thanks to everyone who reads. :)


	6. Countdown

**Chapter Five**: Countdown

The woman sat in front of Katniss, her hair a lifeless blonde and her face so pale the veins were visible. She wore a simple, plain black dress and held only a clipboard and a pen in her lap.

"Your name?"

Her voice was soft and flat, and strangely less demanding than Katniss was expecting. She had fully anticipated a strict, overbearing mentor who would tell her to rip everyone's head off or something.

"Katniss Abernathy."

Katniss watched as the woman wrote down her name on a form.

"Since you were assigned to the District Twelve girl, shouldn't you already know my name?" Katniss asked.

The woman looked up at her, her eyes so light blue they seemed almost see-through.

"The point of this session is not to determine what I know. It is to assess what you know."

Katniss narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Why wouldn't I know –"

The woman cut her off.

"I ask the questions."

Katniss glared, but the woman ignored her. Posing her pen above the paper, she continued in her questioning.

"Where were you born?"

Katniss opened her mouth to reply, before she realized quite suddenly that she didn't actually _know_ where she had been born.

"Um . . . I think it was in the Capitol."

"And who are your parents?"

"Maysilee Donner and Haymitch Abernathy."

"And where were they from?"

It continued; ridiculous questions Katniss could see no relevance to: What did your parents do for a living, what do you do with your spare time, who are your friends, what do your friends' parents do for a living . . .

"If you had just one aid to help sustain your life, which would you choose?"

Katniss thought about it hard, thinking that finally they were getting somewhere with these questions.

"You have four options: water, fire, food, or a weapon. Please list these in order from the one in which you'd prefer the most, to the one you'd prefer the least."

It didn't take Katniss long at all to decide.

"Water, food, weapon, fire."

"Okay, and can you explain to me why you chose this order?"

"Well . . . I would want water before anything because without it, you're dead no matter what. Food is second, because you can probably live a little longer without food, but still not much longer. A weapon would be third because at least I would have something to defend myself with."

There was a long pause as the mentor wrote down Katniss's answer.

"And why would fire be last?"

Katniss gulped and shrugged. "Just because . . . it's not as important as the others."

The woman stared into Katniss's eyes, picking up on the flat tone in her voice.

"I see."

The woman signed her name on the bottom of the form and then picked up another set of papers.

"Now, please describe to me the best moment in your life, thus far."

Katniss bit her lip, unsure of what exactly she should tell this woman. She didn't know her at all, and these questions didn't all make sense.

"I am here to help you, Katniss," said the woman, using her name for the first time. "I am only trying to gain more knowledge about you in order to better understand you; your strengths and weaknesses, for example."

"Yes, but I thought you were supposed to give me advice on the actual Games."

The woman tilted her head. "Yes, and I will. After you answer these questions."

Katniss paused again, trying to come up with some answer that wouldn't give away anything too personal.

"Well, I would have to say the best moment, although I didn't realize it at the time, was when I moved in with my dad."

The woman nodded and wrote down the answer.

"And why were you moving in with him? Why did this make you happy?"

"Just because I fit much better in District Twelve than in the Capitol. I've grown up in District Twelve, and now I'm happy, so I guess it's just the best moment because it was the start of something that really moved my life in the right direction."

The woman went on to question her about her every word: Why was this the right direction in your life? Why do you like District Twelve, and what don't you like about it? What don't you like about the Capitol? Katniss lied through her teeth on that one.

And then, more questions.

What do you believe is your biggest insecurity?

What do you believe is your strongest aspect?

How do you think people perceive you?

If you had to choose between a rock and a log, which would you prefer, and why?

What is your biggest pet peeve, what is your favorite color, who do you idolize the most . . . they continued until Katniss felt like she'd been there hours.

Finally, the woman came to the end of the form and capped her pen.

"That concludes this mentoring session."

Katniss gave an incredulous laugh. "What about that was mentoring?"

The woman, who had been about to walk out of the door and leave Katniss alone in the small room they'd been seated, stopped and looked at her. For the first time since Katniss met her, her face showed uncertainty.

"Why don't you walk out before me?" suggested the woman.

Frustrated, Katniss stood and proceeded to do just that. The woman, at the last moment, lightly put her hand on Katniss's arm to stop her.

"I will give you one word of advice, Ms. Abernathy. Throughout all of this, remember your enemy and its goal."

A sharp tingle of fear went up Katniss's spine. The woman walked away without another glance and left Katniss standing there.

_Its goal. _

That was a good question. What was the Capitol's ultimate goal in reinstating these Games? What was it going to prove?

When Katniss finally walked out of the room completely, she saw that two guards were standing on either side of the door. They hadn't been there when she'd gone in. As she looked down the hall, there were two guards standing outside of every room.

They didn't respond to her presence, so she ignored them and walked toward where she knew the elevators should be.

Peeta was waiting for her in the lobby, looking as equally confused as she was.

He hit the elevator button to go up, and once they boarded he spoke.

"You get asked a bunch of random questions?"

Katniss nodded. "Yeah, like even 'What's your favorite color?'"

Peeta nodded. "Not a bit of mentoring. Coin must be trying to collect information on all of her citizens. I bet she starts doing that to everybody."

Katniss was silent. If that woman hadn't offered her that last piece of "advice", then Katniss probably would have agreed with Peeta. But now, she wasn't so sure . . . the questions had some connection to the Games, she just knew it.

And for some indescribable reason, Katniss didn't share the bit of advice she'd gotten. Something about saying it out loud would make it so much more real, and she didn't want to think about the implications of the woman's words.

Katniss felt guilty for a moment, realizing that she was keeping information from _Peeta_, her best friend and the boy ready to die for her. But when she really thought about it, was the advice anything they couldn't have figured out on their own?

The ding of the elevator gave Katniss an excuse to stop thinking about it.

The doors opened and Dad was waiting for them in the hall.

"Well? Do you feel like you're prepared to chop heads off and survive off squirrel entrails?"

Katniss scowled at him and opened the door to their living quarters.

Peeta was behind her, explaining the meetings with the mentors quietly.

" . . . and then he said 'Thank you', and I got to leave," concluded Peeta as Dad closed the door behind them.

Dad shook his head.

"Not good. She wouldn't need all that information for the Games. I mean, some of it can probably be used against you, but when you think about it, does it really matter how they try to kill you?"

Katniss stayed silent and refused to offer up the information Peeta hadn't gotten from his mentor. She went to sit on one of the couches. Dad followed her.

"You scared now, sweetheart?"

His voice wasn't condescending. If anything, he sounded accepting, almost as though he'd been waiting for this moment.

Katniss didn't answer him, but she could feel her eyes getting watery.

Dad heaved a huge sigh and motioned for Peeta to sit opposite them.

"Well, since we're all sitting here confused and depressed, I might as well give you all the bad news at once."

Peeta glanced at Katniss before quickly looking back at Haymitch.

"The Games will start tomorrow afternoon."

Katniss's eyes widened in shock and a tear flew out, no longer able to be held.

Peeta stood up abruptly and gaped at Dad.

"What? They can't! We just got here! We never went to an opening ceremony, or trained, or got scored, or had interviews, or even got mentored! They can't start them tomorrow!"

Dad didn't move to calm Peeta down as he began to pace.

"Coin, the frigid bitch that she is, gathered all of the actual mentors together while you were at your meetings to tell us. According to her, since there is no such thing as "Career Districts" anymore, no one has an advantage like before, so you will all be equally likely to win. Training, in her opinion, will only delay the process. And she "Wants this to be over with, so the Districts will understand the purpose of the Games."

Peeta gave a cold laugh that didn't fit his personality in the slightest. Katniss had to look away from him it disturbed her so much.

"And what does she suggest about training for the elements? Huh? Yeah, none of us know how to fight, but if we don't know how to survive on our own, how can any of us live long enough to win?"

Dad's face was stoic as he answered.

"That, I can help you with. I can tell you to find water before anything, to not light a fire, and to be careful about what you eat. Even if it looks normal, it might be poisonous. Even the animals have been poison in the past. They'll have a foul smell, almost sulfuric, before you cook them."

He paused.

"Also, it is very important that you get away from the Cornucopia as soon as possible. That's where a lot of people end up dying. Don't worry about supplies; you'll get some later. If I have to, I'll steal food and supplies to send you."

They were silent for a long time. Peeta finally sat down and stared at Katniss blankly, as though he wasn't actually seeing her. Dad's bottle of whiskey materialized at some point, but instead of finally opening it, he held it in his hands and traced the words on the bottle absentmindedly. Katniss stared at the clock, wondering if she would be dead by that time tomorrow.

At ten o'clock, Effie wandered into the living quarters.

She silently, for once, made her way over to the couches, stepped over Peeta's outstretched feet, and sat beside him.

Her hat was lopsided and the pink scarf around her neck was untied.

"The prep teams have just finished your outfits. You will eat breakfast, make your way into the lobby where your tracking devices will be implanted, and then you will be escorted to the entrances of the arena."

Katniss watched as Effie softly laid her hand on Peeta's leg. With a jolt, she realized that Peeta had started to cry.

Shakily, Katniss stood and walked over to take his hand. Forcing him up with the pull of her hand, she led him out of the room without a word. Neither Effie nor Dad tried to stop them.

She led him into her room and sat him down on her fluffy bed. Without pausing, Peeta laid back and cried in earnest. It broke her heart.

Lying down beside him, and turning to face him, she grabbed his hand to hold it.

"We still have all night, Peeta. We'll be Peeta and Katniss again, two best friends from District Twelve who nobody cares about. We'll pretend that we spent the day at the lake, me trying to scout for rabbits and you scaring them all away."

Peeta took a deep breath and opened his eyes. They were red and defeated.

"Katniss, I can't. I can't just pretend like everything's okay, or that it's going to be okay."

Katniss felt herself get teary again.

"Peeta, you're strong. You've always been there for me when I get frustrated or get into one of my moods where I think everyone is out to ruin my life. You can pull through this. Don't let Coin ruin who you are!"

Peeta wiped his face, but it didn't really matter because he continued to cry.

"It was different then, Katniss. Before I was able to be strong because we weren't actually in danger. There's a good chance we are both going to die soon. Two days ago, we had our whole lives in front of us. And what do we have now? A promise of new outfits and breakfast. That's it."

Katniss looked at him sadly.

"Then screw what Dad says. We are going to be together in that arena until the very end. We'll hold hands the entire time if we have to. We can still have what time we have left together."

Peeta rolled onto his back. His hair stuck out in all directions. He paused.

"I really do love you, Katniss, even if you don't love me back. When that mentor asked me what the best moment of my life has been so far, I told him it was the day you moved to District Twelve. I can't imagine what my life would have been like without you."

Katniss squeezed his hand. "I told my mentor the same thing, Peeta. At the time, I didn't really think about why I said it. But now I realize it _was_ because I got to meet you. You're the best person I know, Peeta. You've never, ever left my side, even when I pushed you away."

Peeta cleared his throat. "Well, believe me, it wasn't easy to stay. You tried really hard to get rid of me, at times. But whenever I tried to walk away, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I would dream about that day you sang the anthem. I would go out of my way to see you, even when you tried not to see me."

Katniss remembered those days well. Whenever she used to get the sense that Peeta was becoming overly attached to her, caring for her far too much than she believed she should be cared for, or was able to care in return, she pushed him away. She told him she needed space, that they shouldn't be friends. That she was incapable of loving, so she didn't even want to try.

Katniss stared up at their rumpled reflections in the mirror above them.

"I pushed you away, Peeta, because I didn't want what my parents went through to happen to us. I didn't want to risk the chance that we would become more than friends, screw it up, and lose each other. I could tell that I was beginning to care for you more than I thought I should. And look what's happened - here we are, in the same exact situation as the star-crossed lovers Haymitch and Maysilee. We can't live together. The only choice they are giving us is to die together."

"I already told you, you aren't going to die!" Peeta whispered in frustration.

Katniss glared at him. "Well I'm not living without you. I'm not letting you die for me, just so I can come out of the Games and live a miserable life."

There was silence. Katniss could feel the words at the tip of her tongue. She could feel them tingling on her toes and her fingertips and in her belly. She shouldn't think about it – she should change the subject and let these thoughts go away. But she didn't.

"I really do love you too, Peeta," she whispered.

He turned to face her again. He smiled slightly.

"I hoped you'd say that some day. I just wish it would have been sooner."

Suddenly, the air between them was tense. This was part of why she hadn't ever wanted to say those words – now everything felt awkward. Should they lie next to each other like this? Should they kiss? Should they say anything else? What was he thinking . . .What did _he_ think that _she _was thinking?

Katniss let him get closer. It felt surprisingly natural. She didn't close her eyes until his opened ones were inches away and shining bright blue at her.

When they kissed, it was without thought or worry. Katniss was suddenly able to forget about what would happen if she lost him, what would happen if they died, and what would happen if they lived. She thought of nothing but Peeta, sweet Peeta, as they kissed. It was amazing how, after all these years of worrying and trying to stop fate, Peeta had made her forget about all of it with just one kiss.

When they pulled away, he hugged her and she cried.

No one bothered them again. They laid in bed together for hours longer, talking about that first day they met, the day the butcher lost all of his chickens, the day Delly Cartwright accidentally ran over Mrs. Mason's flower garden with her bike . . .

They had one last night to just be Peeta and Katniss before they had to go in that arena and become the tributes of District Twelve.

Around two in the morning, they fell asleep with relatively no worries on their mind.

* * *

Katniss woke up the next morning with a stomachache. Even though she hadn't been thinking about the Games, her body had seemingly remembered that they started this morning.

Peeta was still asleep next to her with his face in a pillow.

To her slight surprise, she saw Dad slumped in a chair next to the closet.

When she looked at his tired face, she realized that even though she'd loved spending some of her last normal hours with Peeta, she wanted to spend some with Dad too.

"Didn't want to wake you until I had too. Breakfast is at nine."

She nudged Peeta awake and saw the moment he remembered what day it was. His face drooped and his shoulders shrugged.

She looked at the clock.

"Dad! It's 8:55!"

He shrugged. "I didn't figure you'd be in a hurry to eat. The other tributes will be there also, though, in case you'd like to get acquainted."

His voice was sarcastic.

"Let's just go. It doesn't really matter how we look," Peeta said. Katniss raised her eyebrows.

"You should at least brush your hair Peeta, you look ridiculous." He smiled at her, and when their eyes met they quickly looked away, blushing.

Dad groaned. "Oh, let's go before you two start drooling over each other. We've only got five minutes, I don't know why you're so behind."

They went to breakfast without worrying about appearances, in the end. And as they entered the dining room where everyone was eating, it was apparent that no one else was up to theatrics either.

Everyone else was already clothed in his or her outfit for the arena. They wore simple black jackets with their District number on the back, black jeans, and black combat boots.

A boy and a girl, no more than twelve, were sitting in a corner with their mentors, crying uncontrollably. The tributes from Two were discussing knife throwing strategy. The tributes from Eight sat stoically, not touching the breakfast they had in front of them.

Katniss was almost happy when she noticed that Dad was leading them over to the tributes of District Four.

Finn Odair sat next to a man that had to be his father, the resemblance was so uncanny. And the woman, Katniss judged by the faraway look in her eyes, must have been his mother. A girl tribute, looking wholly unhappy and out of place, sat next to them, bitterly nudging around the food on her plate.

And Katniss had to admit, it would have sucked to be on a team where the other three were family. Obviously they wanted their son alive. What advice would they give the girl to survive, knowing it could cost them their son's life?

Finnick nodded at Dad, Peeta, and Katniss as they sat down. She would have turned down breakfast, had a server not come out with a filled plate and laid it in front of her. Of course, she supposed it was for the best. After all, it could be her last meal.

"I've tried contacting every source I have in the Capitol, and even though no one is happy with Coin, they are all too afraid to tell me anything about the Games. They think Coin will kill them," Finnick whispered.

Finn looked at his dad with dead eyes, and in them, Katniss could almost see defeat. She wanted to tell him that he couldn't give up, but by saying that, it would be encouraging a technical competitor. This whole situation was unnatural and uncomfortable.

"Yes, but, you see, I think that . . . it will all be . . . well of course," Finnick's wife rambled. They all looked at her, waiting for her to continue, but she was quiet as she turned towards Finn and straightened the collar on his jacket.

Katniss was reminded of her mother. While Mama had never had problems putting words together once she was speaking, she had difficulty with even wanting to speak at times. Even when Katniss would ask her a question, sometimes Mama would've looked at her, her jaw clenched and her lips sealed shut.

Dad sighed and stuffed a croissant in his mouth. "I tried thinking of any way to plan a getaway, just like in the Quarter Quell. But I'm sure Coin will have created a stronger barrier, or completely constructed a different type. District Thirteen was far more capable with technology than the older Capitol."

Finnick nodded. "She's already doing this differently. What was the purpose of reinstating them, if she wasn't going to keep them verbatim? She clearly stated that she wanted to bring them back to prove how merciful she was or whatever. Why change them so much that they barely resemble the old Games?"

Finnick's wife was suddenly solemn as she looked at him. "They will be the same. They will still kill."

Everyone looked at her once more, this time shaken up. Katniss wondered what horrible things this woman must have witnessed to have her only moment of clarity be that which recognized brutal murder.

"Attention tributes! If you will all make your way to the door on the left, guards will be waiting to escort you down to your waiting chamber. Your mentors may follow."

Shaking, Katniss stood up and glanced around. No one wanted to be that first person to be at the left door. No one wanted to leave the relative safety of the dining hall.

With bravery she wasn't sure she had, she approached the line of guards and felt Peeta and Dad walk up behind her. A man in a suit stood directly before the guards, a mechanical device of sorts in his hand.

"Please hold out your arm."

Katniss looked at him warily as he inserted the long metal end of his device into her arm. She winced as she felt something shoot out of it into her body.

"What is that?" She heard Peeta question, fear in his voice.

"A tracker," Dad murmured. Peeta stepped up reluctantly and flinched when the tracker entered his arm. All of the other tributes now stood in a line behind them, looking unsure and undeniably sad.

Three guards, one for each of them she assumed, led them out of the dining hall and toward a flight of stairs that spiraled downward.

They walked for about ten minutes, going down and down continuously, until finally they reached a hall similar to the one where they'd met their professional mentors. There were multiple doors that she assumed would all lead to different send-off capsules.

The guards walked them to the twelfth door on the right and deposited them inside the room.

It was stone, and dull, and empty except for two glass capsules and their outfits.

Katniss was embarrassed for a moment, thinking she'd have to change in front of Dad and Peeta. But Dad held up his hand to stop Peeta as he began to take off his shirt.

"If you can fit in the jacket and pants without taking off your other clothes, it'll probably be for the best. At least then you'll have extra warmth if it's cold in there."

Thankfully, they could. Katniss was just zipping her jacket when Dad came closer to her.

With a bittersweet smile, he hugged her. She basked in his faint smell of alcohol. When he pulled back, his hand went to the top of her jacket.

In it, he held the Mockingjay pin. Surprised, she looked to his face. He was somber as he carefully pinned it on the left side of her jacket, near her heart.

"I thought you said we were supposed to go along with what Coin wanted? This wouldn't make her happy."

Dad gave a half-smile and pulled his hand away. "Did you really think I'd be able to get through this without pissing someone off? That pin might represent a rebellion to Coin, but to the two of us, it binds us together. Your mother may not be here right now to mentor you, but when you are in that arena, look at that pin and remember her fight, Katniss."

She hugged him again. A voice came over a loudspeaker.

"You have thirty seconds."

When they pulled apart, she looked into his grey eyes.

"We will see each other again. I promise you," Dad whispered.

Katniss pulled away from him with a deep breath and looked towards Peeta.

"Twenty seconds."

She ran over to him and hugged him briefly.

"I'll see you in twenty seconds, Peeta," she whispered in his ear.

They pulled away, both nervous and unprepared. She caught Peeta's glance at Dad and his nod of farewell.

They stepped into the glass capsules and waited. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about when she'd be seeing the last glance of her father. She still had them closed when the capsule began to move upward and even when she noticed a difference in lighting.

She could tell that wherever she was, the sun was shining.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven . . ."

Katniss waited until the buzzer went off to open her eyes. She gazed quickly in the distance, assessing the arena. It was a forest. That was good. There was a field. No water in sight.

Actually . . .

Katniss swung her head around in alarm when she realized there were no supplies around. She got off the platform quickly, remembering that it might explode and force her to get off. She glanced around to see if she'd missed the Cornucopia, but it was definitely not in sight.

A feeling of absolute horror ran over her. The Cornucopia, the supplies, the water . . . they weren't the only thing that was missing.

There were no other tributes.

Katniss was completely alone.

* * *

AN: And so, it begins. Also, I wanted to say thank you soo much to everyone who has alerted/favorite/reviewed this story! I'm really happy that you're liking it so far, and hopefully you will continue to like it!


	7. Peeta

**WARNING**: You will be very confused before everything makes sense again. Keep in mind as you read that eventually everything will be explained, even though it will not necessarily be explained in this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Six**: Peeta

_Peeta's POV_

He stood on the platform until it started beeping, indicating that he should either get off immediately or be blown up into a million pieces.

Peeta stumbled as he quickly tried to get far away from it.

He scanned the arena with fear. There were no other tributes, there were no supplies, but most importantly there was no Katniss.

"Katniss?" He yelled, not caring if someone heard him and decided to kill him.

But no one answered his call.

The capsule had taken him to a clearing. There was a line of trees in a circle around him, and a bright sun above him. That was all.

"Katniss?" Peeta called again. He had to find her. They couldn't be separated. What if Coin had strategically planned to have all the tributes enter at different areas?

But no, that didn't make complete sense. Katniss, Peeta was sure, had ascended upward at the exact same time as him (he had watched her until her capsule was no longer visible). She had been not twenty feet from him in their send-off room. What were the possibilities that there were secret, twisting tunnels that led to the arena?

That was exactly what Peeta was hoping for. If he started wandering around the arena, maybe he'd eventually find her. Then again, Peeta didn't have a weapon, and he could run into other deadly tributes or obstacles that the Capitol had created to manipulate the Games. He also had no food or water, and he wouldn't be strong enough to use physical force after a day or two.

Glancing around him quickly one last time, just to make sure he hadn't missed anything about the clearing, Peeta took a sharp turn and ran for the forest line.

The forest was dense and equally as void of occupants as the field.

He ran until it became clear it was getting him nowhere.

"Katniss?" He tried again. He listened, but the only thing he could hear was the wind rustling the leaves.

Peeta found a small alcove and sat down. He didn't know if he was doing what he'd always unintentionally done – chase away animals – or if there actually weren't any animals.

Maybe there would be berries?

There had to be _something_. Coin couldn't just let them all starve.

What was the point of separating the tributes? Peeta had run for at least a half hour and hadn't seen or heard another soul. It would take them days to find and kill each other, and by that time half of them would be dead from dehydration or starvation.

Maybe Coin didn't want action, though. Maybe she just wanted them to all die to prove her little point.

Thankfully, the arena wasn't cold – yet. Peeta could practically hear Haymitch inside his head: _Find water. Eat something. Get to Katniss. Don't cry_.

Well, what was he supposed to do? He was a baker's son. He knew how to frosting cakes and roll out cookie dough. Sure, he'd gone with Katniss multiple times into the forest, but he had never paid attention to her animal tracking or hunting methods. He hadn't needed to – she had it all under control. To be honest, he'd always concentrated on staring at her while she was in her element, rather than what she was actually doing.

When the sun was far in the west and it looked like it would be getting dark soon, Peeta stood and decided he should look for water.

For the first one hundred steps or so that he took, he tried to be quiet. He looked behind him every few seconds to make sure no one was trailing him. But after a while, he felt ridiculous. He needed to just face the facts.

No one else was anywhere around him.

The forest bared an uncanny resemblance to the one back at home. Then again, Peeta didn't know if forests really differed in appearance from one to the other. All he knew was that the trees were tall, the ground was uneven, and some of the plants looked suspicious.

There had to be water somewhere. Or it would _have _to rain. Unless Coin had magical trees and plants that didn't need water. Which, come to think of it, Peeta supposed could be true. He would believe anything these days.

After an hour of searching, Peeta happened to find water when he tripped and fell into a small creek. Wincing, he stood and examined it. It was clear, so he figured that was a plus. And while Peeta didn't particularly care to eat fish, he was hoping some would be swimming around. But there wasn't. He would just have to go without food and be grateful for the water.

Because he had no physical container to put the water in, Peeta took a long drink from his cupped hands and decided to stay close. There was a small cave visible about fifty feet from the creek. He got creative and managed to drape branches and leaves at the entrance to camouflage his hideout.

When night arrived, Peeta peaked out of the entrance of his temporary living quarters and hoped the Capitol would show who was still alive. From the videos of the old Games they'd watched, the Capitol always played the anthem while reviewing those who had been killed that day.

But Peeta stayed up for hours and hours waiting for some sign from the Capitol, and nothing came.

He fell asleep eventually, completely convinced that Coin had sent them all to different, remote locations to die alone.

* * *

On his second day, Peeta heard a voice.

"I WON'T DO IT! I REFUSE!"

The voice was furious and panicked. Peeta peaked out from under his branches and tried to glimpse someone. Even though the voice clearly sounded deranged, at least it was a sign he wasn't on his own.

"NOOOOOO!"

Peeta considered the male voice. Although he'd never heard it before, he felt tempted to call back.

"Hello?" He called uncertainly. No one answered him. Peeta cowered back into his cave and thought it was probably for the best.

He needed to at least find Katniss before he died.

* * *

By the third day, Peeta was weak with hunger.

He covered up his little home, just in case someone else happened about the area, took a drink of water, and set on his way to find something to eat.

The entire time, he found himself glancing down at the ground, wondering if he would find blood or a dead body. That voice yesterday hadn't sounded pleasant. There must have been murder.

Midday, Peeta spotted a little group of rabbits. Laughing hysterically, even though he really had no idea how he was going to catch one, let alone cook it, Peeta ducked behind a rock and waited.

For an hour, he tried to chase them. He lost two of them, but followed the third at least a mile. Panting, Peeta finally sat down and let the rabbit run out of his sight. It was hopeless. He was too tired and too hungry to chase after something as fast as a rabbit.

The running had taken its toll on him. He was shaky from hunger and lightheaded from lack of oxygen and energy. Peeta sat there for a while, trying to get rid of the black spots he saw behind his eyelids. He needed food, and fast.

His disoriented eyes tried to focus when he heard dinging.

The forest, no matter which way he looked, still looked completely empty of life. It wasn't until he looked towards the sky that he saw the source of the noises.

A box, tied to a parachute, fell down softly between the tree branches. Peeta couldn't have been more thankful to Haymitch for taking mercy on him and realizing that he had no hope of finding food for himself.

As soon as the box was in front of him, Peeta tired to rip the packaging open as quickly as possible. He recoiled sharply when he took the time to read the top of it.

In big, bold letters it read:

A GIFT FROM YOUR CAPITOL

A gift? From the Capitol?

And to think he had thought it was food.

What could the Capitol have possibly sent him? Surely they weren't so cruel that they would send him something dangerous and label it "gift"? Then again . . . maybe they would.

Figuring they would probably force him to open it, or that it might explode like the platforms eventually, he cautiously peeled back the paper of the package and opened the box.

Inside, there was an entire three-course meal. He stared at it dumbly as it steamed. A salad, a bowl of soup, a breadstick, and some type of extravagant pasta stared back at him.

Peeta would have tried harder to examine it for poison, but admittedly, it smelled completely normal. In fact, the delicious scents wafting up from the box made his stomach grumble and his mouth practically water.

It only took Peeta seconds to decide whether or not he would eat it. Even if it did have a scentless, tasteless poison in it, in the end it wouldn't matter. He would end up dying soon anyway if he didn't eat something.

Since he had no way of carrying around any leftovers, and because he was extremely hungry, he ate the entire meal.

When he was finished, he left the box where it had fallen and spent about an hour trying to find his way back to his cave and the stream.

Peeta spent the majority of the night awake, staring up at the rock ceiling of his temporary home and wondering what the Capitol was playing at.

* * *

On his fourth day, an explosion rocked the entire arena.

Peeta awoke to the ground shaking and the branches that had been hiding his body tumbling to the ground. He could hear trees falling. He curled up with his arms over his head and hoped that the stone of the small cave wouldn't collapse.

The explosion lasted for at least a minute.

When it was over, he listened for a long time to see if he would hear anything else.

He didn't.

With shaky legs, he stood and went to exit the cave. Interestingly enough, the branches he had sworn had fallen were still in place. He must have only imagined they fell since his whole body had been shaking.

But when he stepped outside, fully expecting to see destruction, all he saw was the same scene he'd witnessed since he got to the arena; every tree was still standing and every visible surface of the forest untouched.

It gave him the chills. Peeta knew, without a doubt, that he'd heard trees falling. Their limbs had cracked and a whooshing sound had also damaged his eardrums as they fell and landed with loud thuds. And that explosion had been so great that there was no chance everything would still look the same as before. What was happening?

In that moment, looking around at the still serene forest, thinking about how he'd yet to see another soul, and about his unexpected gift from the Capitol, Peeta decided he could wait around no more.

He had to find Katniss. He had admittedly gotten distracted when he'd found the water, and then when he couldn't find food, but now he could wait no longer. She _had_ to be in this arena somewhere.

Wishing fervently that he had some type of canteen, Peeta took one last drink of water before his journey. He would follow the creek as long as he could, and if she wasn't around it, he would be forced to venture elsewhere.

If he could find Katniss, they would probably be able to just wait out the Games. After all, it didn't seem like anyone was in any hurry to kill them. Even the Capitol, who in the past had forced tributes to run across each other, was apparently not intervening. Unless for some odd reason they were just letting Peeta keep to himself.

He didn't want to think about that though – because if everyone else in this arena was fighting like barbarians, Katniss could already be dead.

"Katniss!" Peeta yelled periodically.

As expected, no one answered him and he still saw no other tribute.

When he came to the end of the creek, he backtracked and walked back to his cave, still yelling her name just in case. When he reached his cave, he kept going in the other direction.

Eventually, Peeta wondered away from the small stream and spread out his search for his best friend.

At nightfall, he stopped next to a large tree, piled up a bunch of leaves, and went to sleep at the base of it.

He would just have to keep searching until he found something.

But he was beginning to think that the Capitol was just going to let him wander around, looking for Katniss until he slowly lost his mind.

* * *

Peeta was awoken at some point, he knew neither whether it was night or day, by someone screaming.

His tired eyes were slow and his mind unwilling to process what he heard. His heart thudded fast when he realized how panicked she sounded.

It was a girl.

She screamed and screamed, and it carried throughout the forest as an echo.

"DON'T!" The girl finally screamed something eligible.

Peeta was on his feet in seconds, recognizing Katniss's voice. He had never, _ever_ heard her scream like that. Katniss didn't scream – she didn't outwardly show fear, especially fear so powerful. He couldn't imagine what they were doing to her to get _that_ reaction. He knew her, and therefore he knew that she wouldn't let any opponent know how much pain she was in, especially if she were about to die.

Those screams . . . there was no way they could be coming from anybody who _wasn't_ about to die. They were too horrible – the kinds of screams that came from somewhere within, somewhere that regular humans weren't able to tap into on a daily basis – somewhere they wouldn't _want_ to.

Peeta ran faster than he'd run in his life, even though he was tired and thirsty and hungry. He prayed he was going in the right direction. Of course, he had no idea what he would see when he got to her – and what could he possibly do, except throw himself in front of her?

Even though he was immensely ashamed, he had to admit he was glad he _finally_ knew where she was. That she was still alive, if only for a few more minutes. He would find her, save her, and figure out the details later. Then they could retract into the forest and hope they were the last two left.

_And then what?_ His mind asked him.

_And then we beg for our lives_. Peeta wasn't below begging at this point. He just wanted this whole thing over with.

He knew he was close when he saw the flames.

They surrounded her in a circle, and it was slowly closing off. If he just ran a little faster, he would make it in time to save her . . .

Just as he was about to jump over a large rock and through the closing flames, he felt something grab his leg.

Another scream.

Only this time, Peeta distantly realized that it was his own. Something was dragging him backwards, its teeth so far deep in his calf that Peeta could feel them rubbing against his bones.

He had nothing to fight it off with – but he had to find something! He could still see Katniss, screaming words at the top of her lungs – words that made no sense to him. Even through his pain and confusion, he had time to wonder why Katniss wasn't _trying_ to escape. She wasn't being held there – she could have run through the opening in the flames, she could have even jumped them in certain areas.

Instead, she was standing in the middle, screaming at something he couldn't see. He heard her sobs – she was hysterically crying, and begging, and pleading.

Peeta managed to grab a large branch as the creature dragged him backwards. He tried to flip his body to face it better, but when he did he felt his entire right leg from the knee down seemingly rip off from the rest of his body.

As soon as he heard and felt the crack of his leg breaking, the creature let go of him. Peeta was blind with pain, but he managed to keep his eyes open and squint at his captor. It was a large dog – it had to be some type of genetically created animal. It was too large to be an actual dog and its image blinked every once in a while.

Peeta looked away from the creature when he heard Katniss screaming again.

"Katniss!" He called, his voice restrained and slightly hoarse from pain and the smoke.

She paid no attention to him though, still pleading with some unseen enemy.

"Run!" He yelled again, hoping she would see sense. Soon, the entire forest would be up in flames and they would both die. And she was right in the middle of the fire . . .

"Katniss!" He screamed over and over again, but she never even looked at him. Finally, when the fire had reached multiple trees and they looked dangerously close to falling, Peeta decided to try and crawl to her.

His upper body weight had always been strong from lifting at the bakery and wrestling, but it wasn't in that moment. The pain from his leg seemed to have spread to every nerve in his body.

The large dog sat out of the way of the fire, its large yellow eyes focused only on Peeta. Peeta tried to ignore it, even though everything about it was terrifying. But the dog must not have thought Peeta would get close to Katniss, because it made no move to intervene again.

Peeta had only managed to move a few feet before black spots covered his eyes. He wasn't strong enough – he was losing too much blood – he had already been weak when he'd run here – he couldn't see well because of the smoke – the fire was too hot – nothing was going right! She was right there, right in front of him, and she wasn't doing anything to save herself!

"Katniss!" He tried to shout again, but his voice was a coughing whisper. He could feel tears running down his cheeks, from both despair and physical pain.

Peeta watched with almost disinterest as flames licked his outstretched hands. The fire would engulf him soon.

He now could only see part of Katniss – she was still in the same spot, somehow completely untouched by the flames, even though she was in the middle of it.

And then, with what looked like a calculated jump, Katniss suddenly sprinted toward the outer wall of the circle, and set herself on fire.

Peeta saw one last glimpse of her burning face before he succumbed to the pain and finally passed out.

* * *

AN: There is a method to my madness, I promise. I'm also going to disclose that we will not be hearing from Katniss for three more chapters - because these Games would not make sense from just her point of view, I had to visit other tributes' journeys. I chose Peeta, Finn, and Clove, and then the Games will end with us revisiting Katniss's experiences in the Games. And after the Games end . . . well hopefully everything will make sense again. Or, if you are all smart people (which I'm certain you are) maybe you'll figure out what's going on? Please stick with me? : )


	8. Finn

**Chapter Seven: **Finn

_Finn POV's_

They let him take one thing into the arena, one thing from his District that he wanted by his side.

Finn begged, and pleaded, and insisted that it wasn't a weapon. In the end, they had amazingly agreed that he could take it with him.

The small piece of rope, just a foot long, would be the only thing to keep him sane.

He tied it around his wrist, pulled his jacket sleeve overtop it, and stepped into the capsule that would take him to the arena.

Dad, his eyes so similar to Finn's, looked at him with somber acceptance.

"Please, Finn. Whatever happens in that arena, just remember that it's all a game."

Finn looked towards his mother, who stood halfway behind Dad, and knew that his words weren't completely true. These "Games" . . . would stay with him forever.

Mom stared at him silently, and Finn was sure that it was as conscious of her surroundings she would be until the Games were over and they were out of the Capitol. The more stressed out she got, or the more she was reminded of her past, the worse her illness became. She'd barely been able to speak coherent sentences since they'd boarded the train to the city.

"I love you guys," said Finn. Dad nodded back solemnly.

Finn chanced a glance at the girl tribute from his District, who was just feet away from them and standing at the door of her capsule. She seemed like she was trying not to throw up. With a deep breath, she finally found the courage to step inside. Finn felt pity for her. No one in these Games probably felt as alone as she did. No matter how compassionate Dad had tried to be with her, it was obvious his heart hadn't been in it. It had been almost impossible to help another tribute, knowing that his son would ultimately be fighting against her.

Finn stared at his parents, hoping it wasn't the last time he'd ever see them.

Seconds later the capsule closed, and he was shot up into a dark tunnel.

"_That's the boy. The one whose parents are traitors. His dad's a whore and his mom's insane. Stay away from him."_

"_I'm sorry, Finn. I . . . I didn't realize before that . . . well, it's nothing personal. I just can't be your friend anymore."_

"_Um . . . Coral? Do you want to be on my team?" _

"_I'm on a team already. You'll have to pick Finn."_

_The stares. The jeers. The scowls. The lies. The truths. _

Finn clutched the rope around his wrist tightly, clenching his teeth. The capsule had brought him into a brightly lit arena, but he could hardly care.

The countdown had ended, but Finn was still stuck inside his mind.

His platform started dinging, and he knew enough to realize he should get off. Finally able to look around, Finn saw there were four other tributes in a vast field. A line of trees surrounded them in a circle. Finn briefly wondered how the other twenty-one tributes had already disappeared.

The two tributes from District Two were cornering in on the two tributes from District Thirteen. The boy from Thirteen was already injured, and the girl from his District was trying to drag him away before the District Two tributes could get to them.

Finn decided to run, knowing that he didn't have a weapon.

The forest was foreign. Finn was used to beaches and waves. It took all his concentration to focus on not running into trees or ditches. He could barely focus on figuring out if anything was following him.

Finn started running through all the advice Dad had tried to give him. But Finn had been distracted the entire time. His heart wasn't in winning these Games. He wanted to survive, of course, but he didn't want to play into the Capitol's wishes. He didn't want the "glory" that came with being a Victor. Both of his parents had been Victors, and they had anything but glory in District Four.

_Finn's first day in his new grade hadn't been any better than the previous year. Even after knowing him for close to eight years, none of the children had warmed up to him much. They all still acted like he and his family were taboo. _

_Finn walked into his beachside house, completely disheartened and ready to find Dad and go out on the boat. _

_Instead, he walked into the kitchen and found his mother, sitting in a corner and hysterically keening. _

"_Mom?" asked Finn, completely bewildered. She didn't look hurt or in danger. Had something happened to Dad?_

_But no, Dad came running into the room in the next second, carrying a syringe and a pillow. _

"_Dad, what happened?" _

_Dad ignored him. Carefully grabbing Mom's wrists, he shushed her. When she was calm enough that she had stopped keening, Dad slowly slid the needle into her arm. She was soon drooping onto the pillow, in some sort of unconscious state. _

_Dad threw the syringe away and turned to look at Finn. _

_Finn was shaking. Most twelve-year-olds would have been demanding answers. And oh, of course Finn wanted answers, but he had already guessed the most important one. _

"_It's all true, isn't it? What they say about her?" _

_Dad tried to reply, but no words came from his mouth. He motioned with his hands until he became so emotional that he had to sit down at the kitchen table. _

_Finn was crying. He had never wanted to believe the cruel words everyone had always said about her. None of those people knew her; they didn't know that she was the best Mom anyone could ask for. Sure, over the years Finn had noticed she was different from other Moms, but that had always been what made her special to him. _

"_She's always been like this, hasn't she?" Finn asked, gesturing at his mother. "You've just been able to hide it from me?" _

_Dad shook his head. "No. No, she wasn't always like this. Do . . . what they say about her, Finn . . . well, have they ever mentioned something called the Hunger Games?"_

The Hunger Games. The day he'd first heard those words come from his dad's mouth had been one of the worst days of his life. Up until that point, Finn had been living in blissful ignorance. He'd taken the teasing and the hurtful words and tried to ignore them. But the day Dad finally told him the truth, that was the day he couldn't deny that his family was different.

Finn stopped in the middle of the forest, panting and sweating, and glanced around him. There didn't seem to be any animals or water. He'd find them later, though. Right now he needed to rest. If he overworked himself, he'd get hungry and thirsty faster than he would if he wasn't moving.

Finn found a large tree that had a comfortable looking sitting area at its base. He piled leaves and branches overtop of him when he sat down, hoping that it would somehow camouflage him if anyone walked past.

As he sat in the completely silent forest, Finn felt surprisingly at peace. He knotted and unknotted his small rope, and he tried not to remember that he was an active participant in the Hunger Games.

_He was screaming, and crying, and throwing everything in sight that he could find. Dad was trying to chase him down, pacing back and forth with him while he attempted to destroy the room on the train. _

_It was the first time Finn truly felt like he understood why Mom was ill. He hadn't even stepped foot in the arena yet, hadn't even met any of the other tributes, and he was already horrified and hopeless. _

"_Finn, it'll be okay! I mentored tributes for years! I know how to survive! You don't have to worry, son. I promise." _

_Finn ignored him. He sat down next to Mom, who was at a table and somehow completely unaffected by his tantrum. She twirled noodles repeatedly on a fork, but seemed to be refusing to eat them. _

"_She cares, Finn. She just . . . she knows what she's capable of handling. She can't handle you going into that arena. She's shutting down so she won't have an attack."_

_Finn knew Dad's words were true, but it still hurt him that Mom couldn't be there to comfort him. He really needed her. _

"_I can't do this, Dad. These Games have ruined my entire life! They ruined our entire family!"_

_Dad looked at him sadly. "They ruined your entire life, huh?"_

_Finn knew his words were unfair. Dad and Mom had done everything they could to make his life wonderful. And until the other children and their parents had whispered words behind his back and pointed and laughed at his family, Finn hadn't suspected a thing. But it was hard to be an outcast. _

_Mom took him to play on the beach every day. Dad took him on the boat on weekends. They got ice cream together, and visited the District's zoo, and played games and smiled and they were happy. But the moment Finn was forced to leave his parents and go to school, he became that kid that all the other children were told to stay away from. _

_No one liked his parents to begin with, because his dad had been a poster boy for the rebellion and his mom was crazy. But when people started to actually consider overthrowing Coin, things had gotten much worse. His entire family had been labeled traitors to the District, even though none of them had expressed support for Coin. Everyone in the District just automatically assumed that Dad and Mom still supported the side they'd once fought for. _

"_Well, _now_ they've ruined my entire life."_

Finn sat under his tree for most of the day, still trying to remember everything Dad had told him about survival. But in the end, Finn wondered if any of it would even matter. Would he really be able to survive the Games without killing anyone? Because he absolutely refused to harm another tribute. He wasn't going to kill just because the Capitol wanted him to.

Finn sighed and decided he needed to distract himself. He tried to do a complicated knot that he could never quite get right.

Tomorrow he would go looking for food and water. But until then he was just going to stay right here, under this tree, and find comfort in his rope.

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night, the screams began.

Finn's eyes popped open and he stared up into the starry sky.

For minutes at a time, a girl would scream. And then a boy. And then the girl would scream again.

It didn't sound like someone was going around and killing multiple people. It sounded like someone was torturing a pair of tributes.

Finn tried to judge how far away from him they seemed to be, but couldn't. Sometimes he would convince himself that they were south of him, and then sometimes he decided they were north. The screams echoed strangely throughout the trees, so it was impossible to really know.

He was too terrified to move. He didn't want to chance someone hearing him and deciding to come and torture him.

"Please just kill us!" He heard the boy scream.

Unfortunately, it wasn't until the sun was almost up that Finn finally heard them no longer. Even though he hadn't known those tributes, he bowed his head in sadness. No one deserved that fate.

Finn, although the arena was now quiet, was not any less calm. His hand gripped his rope so tightly that he knew he'd have bleeding wounds when he let go. Whoever had gone after the other tributes had to be on the move . . . and even if they weren't right now, they would be eventually.

Finn didn't feel comfortable on the ground at all. He suddenly felt like every single leaf and rock was staring at him. He glanced upward and wondered if he could be quiet and graceful enough to climb up the tree. Thinking that he had no other option, he slowly removed the branches and leaves from his jacket and started to slither up the thick trunk.

He stumbled a couple of times but didn't fall. Each time, he would halt his movements and listen to make sure no one had heard him. Somehow, he eventually managed to make it up about fifteen feet and onto a thick branch.

Finn had never in his life sat in a tree, so it shouldn't have felt as comforting as it did. He suddenly felt like he could breathe again. He scanned the area below him, but saw no one and heard nothing.

"_What did the mentor tell you?" Dad asked. _

_Finn shrugged and took off his shoes. "He just asked me a bunch of stupid questions. He didn't actually tell me anything."_

_Dad frowned and looked troubled. "I don't like this. She's up to something unusual. Coin always did have something particularly nasty up her sleeve for her enemies. We should have realized that she'd eventually end up just like Snow."_

_Finn ignored him and tried to find a normal meal in the overly lavish living area. The only thing he could find that wasn't strange was cereal. He poured himself a bowl. _

"_I was thinking, and I realized I haven't told you how to cook a meal without drawing attention to yourself. You'll need to find –"_

"_Can we not talk about this right now?" _

_Dad stopped talking but he didn't look pleased. They sat in silence for many moments, and Finn was glad for the peace. _

"_Finn, please promise me that you aren't giving up. Promise me that you'll fight."_

_Finn looked up at Dad, his face blank, and said nothing. _

_Dad looked conflicted. "If you don't listen to another word I say before you go into that arena, please just listen to this."_

_Finn met his eyes. _

"_Your mother will not be able to cope with your death. I won't be able to either, but I am able to control myself, Finn. She isn't. She'll . . . she'll go away for good. Please - I'm begging you. I know you don't want to go into these Games, to fight to kill, but you have to. You have to survive."_

_It was the first time Finn ever saw Dad cry. He wanted to hug and reassure him. But Finn also didn't want to lie to him. He knew he wasn't strong enough to win these Games. He knew that no matter what Dad did to help him, he would still have an extremely hard time killing another person. His entire life, he'd seen the damage these Games had done to his parents. He didn't want any part of it. _

"_Don't worry about it, Dad. I'll do my best."_

And that hadn't been a lie. Finn _would_ do his best to survive. But he'd draw the line at killing. That was something he wasn't capable of doing.

Finn sat in his tree for hours, tying and untying his knots. He remembered every one Dad had ever taught him.

He was so distracted, lost in his world of good memories, that Finn didn't hear the other tributes approaching.

Something flew past his head and lodged in the tree next to his ear. It wasn't until he felt something warm on his neck that Finn realized it had grazed his ear. Turning his head in slight shock, he saw that it was a sharpened rock, tied to a thick branch. A homemade spear.

"Try again, Clove. You're horrible at it. Don't know why I'm letting you follow me."

Finn finally came to his senses. With a tug that almost sent him flying out of the tree, he freed the spear from the bark.

The boy from Two laughed at him. "Oh, and should I be afraid? Are you going to throw it at me?"

Far from sounding fearful, the boy spread his arms wide, daring Finn to aim for his chest. Of course Finn didn't want to throw it at him. He wanted to hold onto the spear though. If he let go of it, the boy would grab onto it again, and Finn would surely be dead within seconds.

The girl looked at the boy with fierce hate and pulled out another homemade weapon; a knife sharpened out of rock.

"I'm not horrible at knife-throwing though, Cato. I'll aim right at his heart, and hit the exact center." She pulled back her arm to throw, and Finn felt paralyzed. He had never met her before, but he didn't doubt her words. She sounded lethal.

But Cato causally knocked her hand as it went to let go of the makeshift knife, and the weapon flopped to the ground pathetically. Clove stared at it, her eyes wide and her mouth set in a snarl.

Cato waved off her frustration. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm going to kill him. But first we'll have fun."

Finn gripped the spear tightly in his hand, determined to keep it away from the boy. He would not be tortured like those other poor tributes. He'd drive the spear through his own heart before he let that happen.

"Let's see. You're from District Four, obviously," said Cato, motioning at the number on Finn's upper sleeve.

Cato tilted his head, suddenly serious.

"Do you know why there were only five of us when we arrived in the arena?"

Finn stared at him, dumbfounded. He vaguely remembered wondering how the other twenty-one tributes had gotten away so fast. When Cato saw his confusion, he frowned.

"I see you don't know. It's just - I can't win if I can't find the other twenty-one. I already killed the other two tributes that arrived with the three of us."

Finn found his voice. "And what about her?" He asked, pointing at Clove. "Will you kill her?"

Cato glanced at his partner but didn't reply. Clove stared back at him with contempt. Obviously they were both thinking the same thing; which one of them would end up dying?

Finn didn't personally care (even though he strongly disliked Cato), but distraction was the only diversion he had at the moment. If he could pin them against each other, maybe he could run away?

It didn't work. Cato ignored Clove's hateful glares and stared up at Finn with a smirk.

"You know, I can climb right up there and get you. Why don't you just jump down here and let me get it over with? I promise I'll be gentle. You don't seem as annoying as the two from District Thirteen. They were convinced that Coin was protecting them."

Cato laughed, and even though Clove still wore a scowl she was unable to stop her giggles.

"No one's protecting anyone! The Capitol just wants a good, old-fashioned Hunger Games to distract everyone from the rebellion."

Finn disagreed. He glanced at the area below him and wondered if he could jump and run without Cato or Clove catching him. Or hurling something at him.

Cato sighed. "I can tell what you're doing. You're looking for an escape. It's not going to work."

Without another taunting word, Cato was climbing up the tree towards him. Finn's heart pounded and he looked upward. Could he possibly climb higher and higher until Cato eventually gave up? Not to mention, Cato looked like he weighed more than Finn . . . perhaps the branches wouldn't hold him?

But they did. Finn stood frozen, debating if there was even a point in fighting. Could he really win against someone like Cato? Or someone like Clove?

"_If you had just one aid to help sustain your life, which would you choose?"_

_Finn looked around the small room uncertainly. _

"_You have four options: water, fire, food, or a weapon. Please list these in order from the one in which you'd prefer the most, to the one you'd prefer the least."_

_Finn considered his choices. "Water, first. Then food, then fire. A weapon least of all."_

_The man looked at him emotionlessly. "And why would water be first?"_

_Finn shrugged as if the answer was obvious. "I'm from District Four. I always feel more comfortable with water around."_

_The man wrote down his answer. "And the rest of the order? Why would a weapon be last?"_

_Finn bit his lip. "Well, I need food to survive. And fire to keep warm. A weapon would be last because . . . just because I don't need a weapon to survive."_

_The man's beady eyes studied him. "You wouldn't need a weapon to survive in the Hunger Games?" _

_Finn stared back. "No. I would only need a weapon to kill, not to survive."_

"_Isn't murder the point of the Games?"_

_Finn didn't answer.  
_

He climbed higher and higher in the tree, but Cato just kept following him. Finally, when Finn was about thirty feet in the air he realized it was hopeless. He needed to get to the ground and try to outrun them. Hoping that he could survive the fall, he let go of the branch he was hanging on, and fell to the forest floor.

Clove smiled and stalked toward him, her knife twirling in her hand.

Finn winced as he stood. He'd hit hard, and it hadn't done his back any good. He was pretty certain he'd landed on a root.

He stared hard at Clove, trying to judge which direction she would throw the knife, so he could swerve and avoid it. With a quick glance above, he could tell that Cato was climbing down carefully, not wanting to risk his perfect health.

Finn backed up unconsciously and stumbled over the root. When he looked down at it bitterly, his heart pounded to a brief stop.

It wasn't a root; it was a trident.

Finn knew he shouldn't have let it distract him, but it did. Would Dad really send him a trident? After he knew that Finn was haunted by the old stories he'd heard about his parents' times in the Games?

Clove went to throw her knife, but once again Cato was there and stopped her.

"He's mine, Clove. Get out of the way."

"NO! You killed the other two! He's mine!"

Even though Finn had been hoping that would distract them, it once again didn't. Cato ignored her and eyed the trident at Finn's feet.

"You have good friends in the Capitol, I see. I haven't been sent anything, and my mentor even promised to send me the best weapons he could find if I didn't get any in the arena."

Finn was silent. He eyed the spear that was back in its owner's hand. Cato probably had good aim.

Ignoring the trident, Finn turned his back and dashed behind a tree. He ran as fast as he ever had, making sure to weave in and out of trees unpredictably. He could still hear Cato pursuing him.

The same moment that Finn fell flat on his face so did Cato. Finn stumbled to his feet and saw the trident on the ground once more. He looked at it angrily. Turning to see his would-be killer, he saw that Clove had tackled Cato to the ground.

"I'm not letting you do this, Cato! You promised he'd be mine!"

Finn only wondered at their extreme, sick desires for a moment before he tried running again. But he was forcefully propelled backward when he reached an invisible barrier.

He got to his feet quickly, knowing that Cato would probably kill Clove and be after him soon. He banged on the barrier desperately, wondering why the Capitol wasn't even giving him a chance at survival.

Finn had just pulled his hand back to bang one more time, when suddenly the trident appeared grasped in his palm. He stared at it dubiously.

_MADE IN THE CAPITOL _

The words on the handle filled him with hate. The Capitol didn't make tridents. They didn't have any use for them. Unless, it seemed, that they wanted to make a special trident, one intended for a tribute in the Hunger Games. One intended for murder.

They made their point clear.

Finn heard Cato give a frustrated yell, and looked back to see Clove running away into the forest.

Finn took a chance and dashed toward the same trail where Clove had just run off, but when he reached it, he was still held back by the invisible barrier.

Cato was panting and holding his spear. His eyes were deranged and his face twisted into an angry grimace. Finn felt anger bubbling up inside his own chest. So the Capitol thought they'd give Finn a choice, huh? Kill or die? No chance at escaping?

"I WON'T DO IT! I REFUSE!" Finn screamed.

_Whatever happens in that arena, just remember that it's all a game._

Dad's words meant nothing to Finn. They were a lie. Even though Finn was staring into possibly the most inhuman face he'd ever seen, into a face of a person that's mind was sickly twisted, Cato was still a living human. He still had a soul. Killing someone was _not_ just a game.

"NOOOOO!"

Cato grinned at his screams.

Finn saw his mother. He remembered her sweet face, and knew that she didn't deserve to watch her only son give up on his life. He knew that Dad didn't deserve that either. And if Finn didn't do something soon, Cato's spear would be ripping out his heart. His hand shook as he raised the trident. It would be so easy; how many times had he used one in his life?

_Just pretend like you're on the boat. _

Finn closed his eyes. Cato got closer, probably figuring that Finn was surrendering.

With a huge sigh, knowing that it would be the last moment in his life when he wouldn't feel guilty, Finn propelled the trident forward. He heard Cato's choking breath and felt the thud of his body when it fell.

_This isn't just a game. _

Finn kept his eyes shut as his body lowered itself onto the ground of its own accord. He didn't want to see the body, but he also didn't think he was strong enough to run away.

Minutes later, Finn heard the sound of whooshing trees. He heard the buzzing of an aircraft; they must be coming to collect the body.

He waited for the noise to disappear. He would only open his eyes once he knew the body was gone. But he waited and waited, and after what seemed like five minutes, the hovercraft still floated near him.

With annoyance, Finn opened his eyes slowly, careful to keep them toward the sky. The aircraft was directly in front of him.

A man, dressed exactly like the guards Finn had seen in the Capitol numerous times, held his gloved hand out to Finn, inviting him to board the hovercraft.

* * *

AN: I know these chapters are a lot different from the rest of the story, but if I didn't show the Games from multiple peoples' POVs, then the Games would have only been like one chapter. And that would just be stupid. All in all, these Games really only last like four or five days. Anyway . . .

I want to give many, many thanks to the people who reviewed. I was going to reply to them, but I never did, so I'm so sorry! I definitely read them though, and I really appreciate the feedback. It gives me more motivation. I saw a couple people think they know what's happening . . . I won't reveal the truth yet though ;)

I'm starting to get excited when I think about going back to focusing on Katniss . . . just one more chapter (Clove) and then Peeta and Haymitch and Katniss will be back.

If you feel like you're a thousand percent more confused than you should be with this story, please let me know. If I can explain anything without giving the plot away, I would be happy to.


	9. Clove

**IMPORTANT**: This chapter gives a little more information about the rebellion. Some of the info is purely made up for this story. However, details such as the main industries in District Two - masonry and training Peacekeepers - were not made up. I don't actually remember reading that in the books (it's been a while), so I looked it up. Just in case anyone else didn't remember that either, I thought I'd mention that I wasn't making it up.

Also, I made Clove's last name up.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**: Clove

_Clove's POV_

"_The Hunger Games will be reinstated for one year only, as a reminder to these rebels, that our current government contains more justice, prosperity, and mercy than that of our previous suppressor."_

The District all around her grumbled and snarled. They cursed at the screen and fought the guards that were forcefully trying to hold them back. Some of them were shot . . . some of them might have even been killed.

Clove didn't care.

She watched as the District's mayor managed to cut Coin's video short. His name was Newell Billings, a name that Clove had never cared to know before that moment. But now, Mayor Billings was acting just as wild as his citizens.

"Our previous _suppressor_?" He shouted. "Look at our industries! They are not _needed_ anymore! We have been experts at masonry for decades . . . and yet Coin waves aside our talents in favor of her own people's creations. District Two used to be the prime center for training Peacekeepers! Now the _Capitol_ believes that our skills are unsatisfactory! You see before your own eyes these new guards who have been trained to act against us!"

District Two used to be the training grounds for Peacekeepers. The Academy still stood to this day, even though it hadn't been used since the end of the war. Coin had stopped the training of the Peacekeepers, claiming that Panem was already at peace and needed no more violence and suppression. So one of the most treasured places in District Two had closed its doors reluctantly. But now, nearly sixteen years later, Coin and her citizens of District Thirteen believed they had a superior training program in the Capitol. And District Two's pride and joy was sitting nearly abandoned on the outer city limits.

However, the few citizens from Two who _had_ been trained by the Academy were acting as the main resistance against the Capitol's new guards. The typical Peacekeepers in their white uniforms stood guard right next to the Capitol's new guards, who were clad in black. The Peacekeepers had turned into District Two's own small militia force; if the Capitol's guards attempted to stop the rebellion or suppress the people, they were standing there also, weapons raised and ready to defend their District.

"What has President Coin done to help us _prosper_? We have done nothing but sink into a depression since she was appointed! And you think we are alone in our struggles? The other Districts face the same fate! Our _President_ put in place a policy to distribute rations _equally_ among all Districts. Then why are we starving? Why are we in need of business? Because Coin invaded our former Capitol, replacing the order in which we'd been living in harmony for _years_, and instated her _own_ people in place of ours!"

Clove nodded silently in agreement, but most people were shouting and waving weapons at the cameras the Capitol had installed to record the reaping.

"She has no desire to HELP us! She wants to REPLACE us! She wants us to meet the same fate as that of our former Capitol! She cares nothing for Panem. She cares only for her own District and her own power."

Clove hadn't been alive when President Snow had governed, or when the rebels had overthrown his Capitol – but she knew every detail. Her father was one of the last men to be trained in the Academy of Peacekeepers. As the years went by and Coin's policies continued to help no one in District Two, her father had become hostile. He told her everything: At first, only the outlying Districts were bitter about Snow and his government, and then eventually every District became unhappy. He told her how they started a rebellion. Most importantly, though, he explained the great bitterness a lot of people had felt right after the war ended; after seventy-five years of being seemingly non-existent, District Thirteen had reappeared, taken over their rebellion, and appointed themselves the leaders of Panem.

While most in District Two felt uneasy about the new government, they didn't openly express their discomfort. After all, there was the argument that without District Thirteen, maybe the war would have been lost. For a while after the war there was an adjustment period in which everyone was relatively happy for peace but also very unsure about the future. Even her father had put his trust in Coin when she seemed to be changing everything for the better.

Obviously, though, once her government and policies were in place, things didn't turn out the way many had planned. Almost everyone appointed to a position of power had formerly resided in the undergrounds of Thirteen; Coin insisted they needed to completely purge the old government. Her complete overtake had gone quietly and smoothly, and no one had even realized until it happened that she had conveniently excluded representatives from the other Districts in her Capitol. There were a couple of exceptions, of course. Some of the rebels from the original movement (before District Thirteen became involved) had managed to stick around all these years. But it seemed that they saw no problem with Coin, as they were being uncharacteristically silent about the new rebellions and the reinstated Games.

For the past year there had been a silent movement within Two to remove Coin from her power. It had only strengthened when word came that District One, and then Four were also unhappy. Eventually, they were confident every District would join together again and create a new government; what that would be, it was unclear. Their country had a bad track record when it came to governing the people.

The mayor screamed and rallied the people, reiterating his points over and over again, until eventually a single black-clad guard managed to break past a Peacekeeper and shoot Billings in the arm. He fell off the stage. A roar of fury erupted from the District, which resulted in the adults joining the Peacekeepers in their fight and a couple of dead Capitol guards.

The children waiting to be reaped were anxious but did not join in the fighting. There was no point; this happened every day, and eventually one side would surrender for the time being. At the current moment, however, the fight was ended with a very loud and long buzzing noise.

People covered their ears and ducked, and Clove thought they might be getting bombed. The noise was unbearable. But after thirty seconds, it stopped.

As they all looked up to the stage, they saw a very peculiar sight. An older man, wearing a weary expression, had emerged from behind the doors of the City Hall.

It was Plutarch Heavensbee.

Murmurings broke out amongst the crowd. Some simply stared at him, openmouthed. Plutarch Heavensbee had been one, if not the only, affiliate from Snow's Capitol that had stayed in a government position; in fact, because he had been so detrimental in the defeat of Snow, Coin had appointed him her second in command. But he hadn't been heard from in ages, let alone seen . . .

He appeared much less energetic than Clove remembered him; he didn't even try to smile and smooth things over. Instead, he waited calmly until everyone eventually stopped talking.

"I am here, citizens of District Two, as a representative from your Capitol," he paused, looking around to see if anyone would protest, but surprisingly everyone was eerily calm. Clove had not heard such peace for months.

"Due to increasing reports and evidence of turmoil, I have come to assess the situation. On behalf of your government and your President, I apologize wholeheartedly for any misfortunes you feel you are suffering."

He paused again briefly to stare at the plastic containers a worker was bringing out to sit on the podium.

"As the leaders of Panem, we want to demonstrate that we care for you and keep our promises. President Coin is requesting that you cooperate with us during the time period in which the Hunger Games will preside, which means absolutely no violence or vandalism."

A couple of curses were shouted, but they were quickly quieted.

"If you agree to these terms, President Coin, along with myself and the rest of her advisors, will agree to sit down with chosen representatives from each District in an attempt to dissolve your issues."

Silence.

Heavensbee nodded and turned toward the podium.

"Now we shall precede with the reaping. Candy, darling, will you do the honor?" He motioned towards a young woman dressed in orange. She looked absolutely terrified to be there. With shaking hands, and without an introduction, she drew a name from a container.

"Ginger Robins!"

A small girl with black hair emerged from the crowd.

Clove felt her adrenaline rising; she could feel her face turning red and her hands itching to strike out. That girl didn't deserve to represent District Two - these Games were possibly the most important Games there had ever been, and this child didn't even look excited. Clove would give anything to beat the Capitol in any way. If she could win these Games, what kind of power would that give her? The victors of previous had played huge roles in the rebellion and afterwards.

She raced up behind Ginger. Before the girl could even reach the stage, Clove was cutting her off and staring up into the face of Plutarch Heavensbee.

"I volunteer. I want to represent District Two."

The girl dressed in orange shook her head, but Heavensbee looked at Ginger.

"Do you protest?"

Ginger looked nervously at Clove and shook her head. "If she wants to, she can."

Heavensbee nodded. "Then I won't stop you. You're name?"

"Clove Kramer."

She passed Heavensbee to stand beside the girl drawing the names. His eyes followed her.

Having never been a person to avoid confrontation, Clove stared right back at him. Although she had previously thought he seemed burned out, she could read very clearly the challenge on his face. It made her think that maybe there was something to Plutarch Heavensbee under the surface that had yet to be seen.

* * *

It wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

She had never felt so frustrated, angry, and positively lethal in her entire life.

The Capitol wasn't giving any of them a chance! How could they even call whatever this was the Hunger Games – they were so different from what Clove had been religiously studying over the past few days that they were almost unrecognizable!

The "mentors", the missing tributes, the lack violence, of entertainment . . . it wasn't what she signed up for.

"We'll go looking for that other boy in the morning."

Clove couldn't have agreed more with her temporary ally, but she despised him so much that she didn't reply.

With a satisfying, hard throw she whirled the rock she'd been working on sharpening for the past hour straight at the girl from District Thirteen's face.

Her face recoiled and her lip cut open with a spurt of blood. Her cry was half moan and half sob. She would soon be unconscious. When that happened, they'd kill her quickly. There was no point in torturing someone who wouldn't respond.

Cato dug his spear into the boy tribute from Thirteen and twisted. The boy barely responded, so Cato removed it and stabbed it one last time in his chest.

"We're going to have to change our plan."

Clove ignored him.

She knew very well that they could no longer stay allies for as long as they'd planned. From the moment Cato's name had been reaped and they had got on that train, Clove could tell that he was exactly like her; he wanted the glory of winning. The power. They'd struck up a deal – they would go around and kill all of the easy tributes first and then separate when the tougher tributes were all that was left.

But with only three other known tributes in the arena – two of them dead at their feet – Clove knew that they'd have to make a decision soon. Were they the only tributes in the arena? If so, wouldn't it be easier to take the other off guard and aim to kill before they separated?

Clove would wait until they tried to find the other boy. That way, they'd explore the arena and have a chance at finding more tributes.

The girl from Thirteen was slowly opening her swollen eyes. Clove was getting tired of her pathetic, high-pitched sobbing, so she drew her hand back to throw the final blow. If her father had taught her anything, it had been the fine technique of knife throwing.

Cato deflected the homemade weapon with his own put-together spear. Clove felt a raw, murderous anger flow up her veins from her toes to her face.

Cato stabbed the girl in the chest. He turned to Clove, smiling.

"Can you believe how easy that was?"

She wanted to rip that spear out of his hands. The only reason he even had that weapon was because he'd seen her with her impromptu 'knives'.

Clove didn't know Cato very well; they had seen each other briefly before in the District, but had never spoken for long periods of time. Cato had not mentioned the rebellion since the Games had started. The one time she had brought it up, he told her to remember Plutarch Heavensbee's words of possible peace and keep in mind that Coin might have spies.

Clove didn't care if she did. She wasn't going to stop fighting just because it might get her killed. She'd rather die for a purpose than as a coward.

Besides, Clove wasn't stupid. She'd seen the tapings of the other reapings – none of them had speeches promising peace negotiations. Clove thought about it, and the more she considered all the factors, the more she believed that Coin was trying to manipulate District Two. After all, they were probably the District that posed the greatest threat to her – they had their own army, along with their own ammunition.

Cato was now doing anything to draw attention to himself – he whistled and banged his spear against the trees, slicing bark and branches off.

"If you keep making so much noise, anyone we might find will run. Not everyone wants to fight like us, Cato."

He rolled his eyes at her, and she felt fiery anger run through her veins once more. She _hated_ him.

These Games seemed to be changing her – she had never particularly been a cuddly person, but the amount of hate that she was feeling was on an entirely different level than anything she'd felt before.

"Think we can get an hour's sleep before we look for the boy?" Cato asked.

Clove didn't trust him.

"We'll need it eventually, so why not?" She answered.

They found two trees and sat down at the bases. Cato sprawled out immediately, resting his spear over his chest and smiling one last condescending smile at her before closing his eyes. He didn't think she was strong enough, gutsy enough, or motivated enough to kill him while he slept.

Clove honestly didn't know what held her back from killing him that night. She wanted to – even staring at his peaceful face made her blood pressure elevate and her hand clench on her weapon. But the longer they stayed together, the more chance they had of finding other tributes and killing them. If they separated now, chances were they'd run into each other again and fight to the death before the Games even got down to the last tributes.

But then again, if she just got Cato out of the way right now, she could do these Games her way. Cato had refused to let her finish off the District Thirteen tributes – and she wasn't going to put up with that. She didn't want to be one of those tributes that won by chance. She wanted everyone to know that she was dangerous, powerful, and showed no mercy.

Clove decided she would wait and see how Cato acted towards her tomorrow, and if he so much as sent her one of his placating smiles, she'd aim her weapon to kill.

* * *

Clove ran for a mile before she collapsed.

She was so disoriented that she couldn't see – her eyes were flashing different colors and her head was spinning. Her stomach seemed to be trying to turn inside out, and all the while, only one thing was clear: She was so angry she wanted to rip someone to shreds. No, she didn't only want to, she felt she _needed_ to.

But she couldn't. She felt so lethargic and confused that she couldn't move.

Clove remembered trying to stab her weapon into Cato's eyes, she remembered the other boy screaming nonsense, but she couldn't remember much of anything else.

Her heart rate was pounding to the point where she almost couldn't breath. The contradicting sensation of wanting to move and yet not being able to deemed her unable to focus.

With a large gasp, she lied flat on her back and tried to see above her. The trees were spinning and strangely red. The ground was rolling. She could hear a loud whistling in her ears that made her want to scream.

She needed to kill. She needed to go find that boy or Cato . . . or anyone.

Eventually, she felt her eyes roll back into her head and she knew no more.

* * *

When she woke up, she was starving.

Clove took a couple of deep breaths to try and figure out if she was okay. Nothing seemed to be wrong – she no longer felt like she was about to explode.

It seemed that the only problem she had was food and water. Clove had not eaten since entering the arena, and she honestly wasn't sure how long ago that had been. How long had she been unconscious?

Had Cato killed the boy from Four? Or had the boy killed Cato?

Clove personally hoped that Cato had met a sickening end after the way he'd been treating her. Honestly, who did he think he was, pushing her around like a two-year-old? Her father had trained her – and she knew for a fact that none in Cato's family were part of the Peacekeepers. Clove was more capable than he was.

Clove stood up slowly and looked around her. She didn't see much; just more trees, plants, and dirt. No animals or streams.

But her stomach was painfully rumbling, and Clove knew she needed strength if she was going to win.

After making sure her weapon was still intact and in her possession, Clove strode purposefully through the forest. At first, she didn't pay attention to how much noise she was making, but quickly realized that she might be scaring away any animals that might be lurking.

With soft, almost silent steps, and wide-open eyes she scanned nearly all day for a sign of any food or water.

Frustrated and feeling that unbearable anger rising in her once more, Clove finally forced herself to stop looking when it became so dark that she could barely see a foot in front of her.

* * *

Clove awoke to whispers.

"Is she dead?"

"Should we go any closer?"

"No, we can't! She's from Two! What if she tries to kill us?"

"She doesn't look like she _could_ kill us right now. She's horribly pale."

Clove's heart rate accelerated and she sat up suddenly.

Her two observers backed away quickly.

They had to be at least eighteen – they didn't look like children. A girl and a guy, both with shiny black hair, looked at her cautiously. Clove looked to their jackets and saw they were both from District Three.

All of them stared at one another for a few minutes, unsure of how to proceed.

The guy stepped forward first. "I'm Nigel. District Three. And this is –"

"Anna. Same District," she finished.

Clove wasn't stupid. It was two against one, and she was clearly – as they had pointed out – weak at the moment. It would be unwise to go against them.

"Clove. I'm from Two."

They nodded awkwardly.

"You – um, you're bleeding? Do – do you want any help?" asked Anna.

Clove looked down at her body and realized that she did have a large cut on her thigh. It was strangely not painful, so she hadn't paid it much attention the previous day.

"I'm fine. Besides, what could you possibly do for it?" Clove retorted, her voice harsh.

Nigel looked at her in disgust, and Clove could see in his eyes the only reason he was bothering with her was because Anna was concerned.

Anna stepped past Nigel to offer Clove a hand up. Clove clearly had a weapon residing in her hand, but Anna paid it no mind. Clove knew that once she recovered, Anna would be easy to dispose of. She was too trusting.

Clove allowed Anna to pull her up, even though she didn't really need the help.

"These Games are horrible, aren't they?" Anna asked. "We haven't seen any others besides you so far. The President doesn't seem to be encouraging violence."

Clove stared at Anna from the corners of her eyes. _The President_? A term too respectful for Clove's tastes.

Nigel came up on the other side of Clove and motioned that they should walk forward.

"We found some berries and caught a couple of rabbits yesterday. You look like you could use some nourishment. Do you want to come back to our camp?" Anna asked generously.

Clove thought briefly that this was too good to be true. Meat and berries? Her stomach growled and she nodded.

Once she ate, she'd figure out a way to kill them. In the real world, offering help such as Nigel and Anna were would excuse them from the murder Clove had planned for them. But this wasn't the real world – these were games, in which the primary rule was to kill.

"Have you seen any others?" Nigel inquired.

Clove realized she would have to play innocent if they were to trust her.

"No. Just me."

Anna nodded sympathetically, but Nigel narrowed his eyes and glanced at her leg.

Damn. She'd forgotten the large gash.

"I tripped and fell," she said quietly. "Trying to catch a rabbit."

Anna nodded. "Yes, I had trouble also. Nigel is smart though. He knew how to set traps."

They walked a few more paces. Anna asked her numerous questions about her District. Nigel stayed silent, and Clove figured he wouldn't go down without a fight.

They were almost back to the clearing where the capsules had delivered them when Clove spotted their hideaway. Just behind the tree line sat blankets of leaves and a pile of berries lying next to a dead rabbit.

Clove's mind focused in on them, and she strode forward without waiting for the others.

"Wait – Don't! Clove, wait!"

But Clove didn't.

The next second, Clove felt someone grab her shoulders and pull her back. She would have turned around and killed Nigel right then, but she didn't get the chance. The arena exploded all around them.

Clove heard Anna let out a gasp and listened as Nigel cursed. Trees fell all around them. The ground shook. Just when Clove thought it would finally be over, the explosions started up again, almost as though they had been triggered.

After the third round, Nigel pushed away from her and stood up angrily.

"You idiot! We told you to wait! Now look what you've done!"

Clove looked around her in bewilderment. Trees from as far as a hundred yards away from them had fallen. The food had vanished in the commotion.

"What was that?" Clove managed. Her ears were still ringing, and even though she was in shock, she felt anger rising once more.

_Had he just called her an idiot? _

Anna was shaking as she stood. "We dug up the mines from the platforms and planted them around our food. We had such a hard time finding food that we didn't want anyone wandering past and stealing it while we went to look for others."

Clove looked up at Anna's face. Something about her concerned eyes, her kind smile, and her helpful hand reaching out set Clove into a frenzy. She was suddenly angry again, her heart rate going so fast she could barely stand it.

Nigel must have seen it in her face; he yanked Anna back and held a thick branch in his hands.

"Calm down. We don't have to kill each other. The Capitol doesn't have to win. They can't force us to do something we don't want to do."

Clove saw red. She stood up slowly. She staggered. Something wasn't right.

"I want to kill, though. I need to win." Her words were slurred. Clove blinked and tried to clear her mind. Why was she doing this? She wasn't strong enough, she was going up against two others – hell, she could barely even see! But the anger inside of her made her jittery. Clove _needed_ to let it loose.

Her breathing was heavy and her hands shaking in rage as she advanced toward the other tributes. Embarrassingly, they didn't move away. Clove came to stand in front of them, and squinting her eyes, could tell they were looking at her like she was crazy. Not dangerous.

"I need to win!"

Anna grasped the hand Clove tried to choke her with and held it tight.

"Clove, sit down. You're not in your right mind."

Clove tried to punch Anna with her other hand, but she staggered once more and missed.

This was horrible. This was her worst nightmare. Clove had the opportunity right in front of her. She could kill them and search for more. She knew there were berries and rabbits now. Clove could do this, she could win!

But the harder she tried to kill them, the more disoriented and angry she became.

_I need to stop. I'm ruining my chances. _

"Clove, you're hyperventilating. Can you breathe?" She heard Nigel ask.

Worse yet – he didn't even see her as a threat anymore. But sadly, he was right. She _couldn't _breathe. Her heart rate was too fast, her head felt like it was spinning around and around and yet she still felt the unbearable anger that propelled her forward.

She aimed her weapon, knowing that no matter how disoriented she may be, she had _never_ missed a target.

But she did miss. The makeshift knife fell pathetically to the ground a foot from Nigel.

This wasn't possible. She had done everything right! She'd volunteered, she'd planned, she'd went through all that condescending torture Cato had put her through, and yet . . . everything was still going wrong.

"Anna, let's go. She's going to pass out soon."

"But something's wrong with her! We can't leave her."

"We have to. She's not like us, Anna. She wants to participate in the Games. Don't you remember her from the videos? She volunteered. And you can hear her now! She _wants_ to kill us. I'm not sticking around for when she's better."

Clove knew Anna had ignored Nigel when she bent down and lifted her up.

"Clove, take deep breaths."

Clove wanted to hurl curses at her. How humiliating – Clove was doing her best to try to kill them, and yet Anna could still get close enough to coddle her.

"You're hurting yourself more than you're hurting us. Calm. Down."

Scenes from the past couple of days flashed through her mind. Cato stopping her from killing the girl, Cato stopping her from killing the boy, and then that other boy, and then her defeat at killing Cato himself. Her collapse in the forest, after only running a mile. Her pathetic attempts to find food and water. And now, the scene right before her eyes – her intended victims treating her like a child instead of a threat.

How could she possibly win these Games?

Clove felt, for the first time in her life, a feeling of defeat run through her veins. She couldn't. Even if she did win, what would people say? They definitely wouldn't be able to say she was skilled, or powerful, or clever.

No, she'd be remembered as the tribute who had stumbled her way through the Games, making crazed threats that she couldn't carry out.

"She's upset," Clove heard Anna whisper.

"She's hysterical. She's going to kill herself if she doesn't calm down soon."

Anna tried to calm her down, shushing her and holding her hand, but all it did was make Clove more furious.

"I've never seen anyone act like this before," said Anna.

Nigel sighed. "We need to knock her out, Anna. She's only getting worse."

There was silence, all except the noise of Clove struggling and her desperate gasps.

"I can't," Anna said finally.

Nigel picked up the sharpened rock Clove had been trying to kill them with.

"Something's already wrong with her," said Anna. "What if she doesn't wake up?"

Nigel threw the rock soundly at Clove's head.

As she blacked out, Clove had one last conscious thought that she would rather she didn't wake back up.

* * *

AN: I clearly struggled with this chapter. But fear no more - the next chapter is Katniss. I think that Clove, this Clove and the Clove in the books, wanted to win above everything. I think she wanted the glory. That's sort of why she gives up at the end of this chapter - no matter what she does, nothing is working out for her. She's humiliated and she's not used to that feeling. That's why she would rather not wake back up; she doesn't want to live with her defeat.


	10. Katniss

**READ: ** Okay, so half way through a really important part of the Katniss's story is revealed. It starts in bits and pieces. So if you start thinking you missed something from a previous chapter, you haven't. It should all make sense by the end of the chapter.

I also want to warn that there is suicide in this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**: Katniss

_Katniss's POV _

For the longest time, Katniss stood in the middle of the field. She looked around at the trees and listened for any noise that would indicate she wasn't completely alone.

The only sound she heard were the leaves rustling in the wind. She didn't even hear birds.

Despite her inner panic, she kept her face calm. She could deal with this; all of it was very familiar. It was just like home. The grassy field, the tall trees, and eventually maybe she'd find a stream or a lake.

She hoped that wherever Peeta was, he felt the same way. If he was in this arena, he would be able to survive on the elements; at least, she hoped she'd managed to teach him _something_ over the years.

What should she do? What was she supposed to be doing?

Katniss would have been content to wander the woods for the entire Games, but she knew that there must be some trick. If there were other tributes nearby, surely they would have killed her while she was standing out in the open?

Her plan to do her own thing and go against whatever Coin wanted her to do was quickly deteriorating. Coin was making it so she _had_ to play into her little games. Katniss didn't like the feeling of knowing she was walking right into a trick, and yet completely unable to do anything about it.

By the time she decided to explore the woods, the sun was slowly moving to the west, indicating that it was almost supper. Katniss wandered around in relative peace. It reminded her so much of home that she was actually happy. After all, if she went back to Twelve and the guards were still forbidding trespasses into the forest, she would never get to roam around them again.

Katniss was an expert at scouting for animals; within an hour of setting traps she managed to catch two squirrels.

It was then that Katniss did something very foolish. She was sure Dad was screaming and cursing at her, but she couldn't resist. She lit a regular fire to cook her squirrels, right on the edge of the tree line that bordered the open field.

She knew she had no weapon to kill if someone saw and decided to attack. But her curiosity was so overwhelming – she just _needed_ to know if anyone was in there with her. The fire lit up a space at least ten feet on either side of her. She kept it on for at least an hour, and still there were no suspicious noises forthcoming from the arena.

Katniss lay back against a log and stared at the fire for a long time. It was almost possible to forget she was even in the Games, or that Coin apparently had it out for all of them.

She thought about her parents. How had the Games been for them? Katniss couldn't even imagine not being able to walk around without looking behind you, or keep warm without fear of drawing vindictive killers to your campsite. Maybe that was part of Coin's plan for these Games – she wanted to be separated from Snow's Capitol as much as possible, so why not completely change the structure of the Games? Just the words _Hunger_ _Games _would be enough to invoke fear and obedience in the people – after all, the adults had been brought up on the idea that the Games symbolized their lack of control and their mistake of starting the very first rebellion Panem ever had.

Katniss was reminded suddenly of her mentor's warning: _Remember your enemy and its goal_.

In all of this, was her enemy Coin or the Capitol as a whole? It didn't seem as though the citizens of the Capitol were too pleased, but people usually tend to stick with their own. In the end, the former citizens of District Thirteen would probably support Coin unless she did something grievously horrible to them.

And the goal . . . proving she had so much power that she could control them all? But really, how far did Coin think she could take this? She might have technology, and people, and the means, but if she also had thousands of people against her she couldn't stand too much of a chance.

Katniss felt sick to her stomach when she realized how wrong she was. District Thirteen, District Twelve . . . even the former Capitol - they'd all been bombed in varying degrees. Thirteen had gone of the map. Twelve had taken years to recover. Coin really could eliminate hundreds at a time if she pleased.

After hours of staring into her fire, it finally burned out.

Katniss wanted nothing more than to talk to Dad, or Peeta, or even Effie. Being along in this strange, empty arena _was_ starting to make her feel nervous.

* * *

On her second day, Katniss caught another squirrel but was unable to locate water. She was parched, but at least she had food. If there was food, there had to be water. The Capitol wouldn't give one but not the other . . .

Life in the arena was boring. She stared at the trees. She walked around until she became tired. She wondered over and over and over again what she was supposed to be doing and how she was supposed to do it.

No weapons, no tributes, no gifts. Just this empty forest.

In some sick, twisted way Coin was beginning to make Katniss wish the Hunger Games were the way they had been when her parents had been in the arena. And that was something Katniss would have never thought possible.

* * *

The third day Katniss decided to hike through unfamiliar territory, farther and farther away from the open field. She was hoping above anything else that the other tributes had been placed far apart from her, and that all they needed to do was find each other. The faster they did, the faster the Games would be over.

The arena was never-ending. Trees and plants and every now and then a wall of rocks to climb. But no more fields, and no more signs of life besides her woodland friends.

_Dad, what are you telling me to do?_

Katniss wished she could close her eyes and listen, and hear Dad shouting instructions at her. She knew he was back in the Capitol, watching her every move and willing her to win. But she couldn't – she didn't know _how _to win. She didn't know how to do what Coin wanted to her do, or how to go _against_ what Coin wanted. The only thing she knew was that she had to stay alive until Dad managed to send her a sign, or until the pieces of Coin's mad plan finally clicked in her brain.

She had just started to assemble new traps to catch her lunch when she heard a noise behind her.

Katniss turned around slowly. Tingles ran up her spine – she shivered and felt goosebumps on her arms. Her heart stopped beating for just a second, and she drew in a deep breath of surprise.

Someone was watching her.

It wasn't a tribute.

A woman dressed in white stood twenty feet from her. Her hair was blonde. Her face . . .

"Hello," said the woman. Katniss squinted her eyes in disbelief.

"W – Who ar –are you?" Her voice wasn't as strong as she would have liked it to been.

The woman raised her eyebrows. "You know."

Katniss shook her head. "No. I – I don't know. I don't know. I don't know! Who are you, really?"

The woman gave her a small, condescending smile. "You know, Katniss."

Katniss didn't like the woman calling her by name. She hated it. She wanted away from her. This wasn't funny at all. There were some things – fundamental rules – that people just didn't joke about. Katniss had known Coin was evil, but this . . . this was different.

"This isn't funny, Coin," Katniss wanted to shout but all that came out was a whisper. She stumbled backward into the tree trunk.

"This isn't real."

The woman took a step towards her, and then another, and another until they were ten feet apart.

"This _is_ real," the woman told her. Katniss wanted to look away from the woman's eyes but she couldn't. In her eyes, Katniss saw compassion and truth and love. It was something Katniss had always wanted to see, but it was also what made this all the more disturbing.

"You're not my mother. You look nothing like her." This woman might have the same face, the same hair, even the same dress . . . but those eyes weren't Maysilee's. Maysilee had never looked so clear-headed, so sure of herself, so . . . calm.

The woman looked sad. "See what they've done to us? You don't even recognize me."

Katniss gave a cold, startled laugh that sounded borderline hysterical.

"Get away from me. I – I don't know who you are, but you aren't Maysilee Donner."

The woman stepped closer and looked intensely into Katniss's eyes.

"Don't you see, Katniss? They're doing it to you – they've _been_ doing it to you. What they did to me. They made you believe I was dead! They've fed you lies!"

The woman looked ready to spiral into more explanations, but Katniss cut her off. She grabbed a branch from the tree and pulled hard. The woman looked at it in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

Katniss swiped it at her before she could figure out what was happening. The woman cried out and cringed.

Katniss stared in disbelief as blood seeped through the woman's white dress where she'd been hit. Apparitions didn't bleed . . . did they?

"You're not real," Katniss said again. She watched as the woman put a hand over her wound and winced.

"I _am_ real –"

"I SAW YOU DIE!" Katniss screamed.

Katniss closed her eyes despite her fear. There was no way the woman in front of her was Mama . . . her mother wouldn't look the same after what happened to her. There would have been scars.

"They healed me, Katniss," she said.

Katniss shook.

_They couldn't have healed her. No one can heal something so horrible. _

_Mama would never step foot in an arena again. _

_Mama wouldn't mess with me like this. _

"I don't believe you," Katniss snarled. The woman gave her an appraising look.

"You will."

Katniss was opening her mouth to argue when the arena exploded all around them. The woman disappeared from her sight, but then again – Katniss couldn't really see anything at all. Everything was shaking and blurry and the sound was so loud that she could barely stand it.

Katniss screamed as the tree behind her started to fall. She ran as fast as she could, farther and farther away from the falling trees. It wasn't easy – the ground shook violently and she was already disoriented from her encounter with the woman.

It took her several minutes to realize the explosions had stopped. She slowed to a stop, panting but somewhat grateful for the sudden chaos – it had given her a chance to escape.

Thankfully, the woman was nowhere to be found. Katniss looked around corners for her as she searched for a safe place to rest.

_I'm going crazy_.

Her brain was slow on the uptake; it wasn't until she was sitting down comfortably on the forest floor that she noticed there were no fallen trees. Had she really run that far?

It was dark now, but Katniss didn't want to light a fire again. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to hunt. In fact, Katniss wasn't planning on eating anything more. The Capitol must have drugged her somehow – it could have been in the squirrels.

There was no way that woman had been her mother. No matter how much power the Capitol had, they didn't have the power to raise the dead.

* * *

"_I want to see her, please! She's my mom. Just let me say goodbye to her."_

_The man – Plutarch – looked at Katniss sadly. "I'm sorry, dear. You can't see the body. She wouldn't want you to see her that way." _

_Katniss sniffled. "I want to say goodbye." _

_Plutarch ignored her plea. "We've arranged for you to live with your dad in District Twelve." _

_Katniss shook her head. "No. I want to stay here."_

_Plutarch looked at her sorrowfully. "And where would you live? Dear, you need to leave. Your dad will take care of you." _

_Katniss cried. "No! I don't want to be around him! He's the reason she's dead!"_

_Plutarch looked at her sternly. "He is not the reason she is dead. Your mother, she –well, she had many reasons to – to end her life, but your father was not the cause of it. Remember that, Katniss."_

When Katniss awoke from her dream, she felt panicked but still opened her eyes slowly. She was used to dreaming of that conversation with Plutarch Heavensbee. It had haunted her for many years.

He had been the one to say the words – _She had many reasons to end her life_.

Even though Katniss had grown up with the struggling Maysilee, even though Katniss had witnessed her death and _knew_ no one else had been there – her seven-year-old self had not thought of it that way. _She took her own life_. _She had many reasons_.

Worst yet, Mama had seen Katniss that day. She knew her daughter was right there and she didn't even try to save herself.

Katniss realized she was crying. It had been years since she'd allowed herself to think about that day . . . and now she recognized the bitterness she felt. Mama had been her whole life when she was little – her only friend, her teacher, her only parent. And yet, having Katniss must not have been enough to save Maysilee.

_You never really knew her, Katniss_.

It bothered her so, so much that no matter how much she wanted to hate her parents, she just couldn't. She kept reminding herself that it wasn't their fault they were so miserable.

Katniss jumped when she heard a noise. Looking around, she realized there was nothing out of the ordinary. The tree and the plants all looked back at her. No imaginary Maysilee.

Regardless, Katniss felt paranoid. She decided to leave the area and head back closer to the open field. Maybe these woods were part of the reason she had hallucinated yesterday. There had to be a logical explanation . . .

* * *

"Katniss!"

She froze in place. Thinking she must have imagined it, she waited to see if another call would come.

"Katniss!"

Peeta.

"Peeta?" She yelled.

She ran towards where she thought his voice was coming. Was it really him? What if he was just an apparition too?

It wasn't as hard for her to find him as she'd imagined it would be. He hadn't been moving while he called for her. As she approached him and saw his wonderfully familiar face, she saw that he had created a little nest for himself at the bottom of a tree.

"Peeta! I'm so happy you're all right!" Katniss cried as she got closer.

He turned his head away from her and shouted her name again.

"Peeta? Peeta, I'm right here!"

He didn't seem to hear or see her. He sat down in his little bed of leaves and sighed. Katniss crouched down in front of him and stared at him intensely.

Peeta looked real – he was wearing the tribute outfit, the bright red number 12 plastered on the arms of his jacket. His face was tired and slightly dirty. He certainly _looked_ like he had been in the forest for the past few days.

"Peeta, can you hear me?"

His blue eyes didn't come close to meeting hers. Instead, he tried fluffing the leaves around him and laid back on them.

"What did they do to us?" Katniss asked in wonderment. He was right in front of her . . . and yet he was completely unaware of her presence.

Katniss tried screaming at him, kicking him, shaking him – but he didn't respond to any of it. Instead, he ended up falling asleep.

With a frustrated sigh, Katniss sat down next to him. They could be allies even if he didn't know she was there. She'd follow him around until he eventually saw her.

Katniss sat in silence for close to an hour. She felt slightly more comforted, knowing that Peeta was still alive and well. And he'd been looking for her. It was more than she could say. She had worried about him, of course, but she hadn't wandered the forest calling his name.

She was watching a purple butterfly – the first insect she'd seen since entering the arena – land on a boulder when she heard it.

A crackling. Even though she had no way of knowing what was coming, Katniss felt dread settle in the pit of her stomach. That _sound_. She'd heard it before.

Katniss stood and examined the area. There was smoke.

A woman screamed.

_That scream_.

It set Katniss's heart rate flying. She lost all reason. The only thing she could think about was that scream, and the crackling, and the smoke.

She'd felt like this before. But then, she'd been seven-years-old and hadn't had a clue what was happening. She'd been sitting in her room all day, trying to teach herself simple multiplication. Katniss hadn't noticed anything was wrong until Mama screamed.

She'd run through the living room, into the kitchen.

And now, as she took a turn around a tree, Katniss knew what she'd find.

Mama was there, in her white dress. Just like in her nightmares, she stood with matches in her hands, throwing them all around her. Instead of the kitchen catching on fire, the blaze was now spreading throughout the forest.

"DON'T!" Katniss screamed.

This wasn't real. She wasn't really dying again. Mama had already died once, she couldn't be dying again!

But her blue eyes still cut across the flames, just as they had all those years ago, and stared straight into Katniss's grey eyes.

Mama lit a match and threw to her feet.

"YOU CAN'T!"

It was so much more horrible than the first time. The first time, Mama had looked back at Katniss incoherently. She hadn't been fully in her right mind. But now – now Maysilee's eyes were sharp and accusatory.

"They made me do it. You should have helped me while you could," Mama's voice was garbled.

Katniss realized she had started to scream. Words that she wasn't actually thinking about – she was saying anything at all to get Mama to stop.

"JUST JUMP AWAY! YOU HAVE TIME!"

It was close to what she'd screamed the first time. Seven-year-old Katniss had begged and pleaded with Maysilee to put the fire out, to run away, to end it all.

This scene had haunted her nightmares for years. The image of her mother burning alive, first her legs, then waist, and then finally her face. Katniss hadn't done anything about it – she'd just stood there and screamed and coughed and watched.

But now she was older. The biggest regret of her life – not trying to save her – maybe she could rectify that. Mama was right there. The fire hadn't yet burned to her waist. They still had time.

_Just one jump. She's right there. _

Katniss looked to the fire. She met Mama's eyes. Her blue eyes were dreamy – a wonderful look Mama used to get when she was happy.

_Really, could anyone fake that?_ Katniss wondered. Maybe this actually was real . . .

The fire was quickly rising up Mama's arms and towards her neck. Katniss needed to decide soon.

And then she realized – how could she _not_ save her? This was her second chance. Just reach out and grab her and pull her out.

But as she did just that – leaping right at Mama with an outstretched hand – Maysilee disappeared and all Katniss knew was the unbearable pain of the fire devouring her whole.

* * *

AN: ... I'm sorry if that seemed rushed. Honestly, it's hard to write multiple chapters of people who believe they are alone in a forest. For real, they can only look for water and food so many times. Unless there was action, it was hard to come up with different things they could do without seeming redundant. I know I shouldn't complain, considering I came up with the plot . . . lol. But they really were (I promise) alone for a reason.


	11. The Victors

**Chapter Ten:** The Victors

The sky was grey. The ground was white. The lake was frozen.

Katniss was freezing.

In all her years in District Twelve, Katniss hadn't known it to snow so early in the year. But the evidence was all around her; the familiar forest was covered in white. Her breath clouded in front of her.

She heard laughter.

Peeta.

He was standing next to the lake, covered in his dad's old work coat, from a time when Mr. Mellark had worked in the mine and not a bakery. Although Peeta was a teenager, the coat still made him look like a kid playing dress up.

"Are you crazy, Katniss? Aren't you freezing?"

She looked down at herself. She was wearing her only nice dress, the black one she used for special occasions. And no matter how stupid Peeta looked in his dad's coat, Katniss must have looked stranger; she wasn't wearing a coat at all.

Katniss stopped in front of him. She was so, so glad to see him.

"Where have you been?" She asked.

Peeta shrugged. "Here. Waiting for you. We were going to hunt today, remember? Well, _you_ were going to hunt."

His eyes scanned her dress again. "But I guess not anymore."

Katniss felt tired. "No. I don't feel like hunting."

"Are you okay?" asked Peeta.

Katniss thought about his question. Besides her exhaustion, she felt fine. She felt like nothing else in the world mattered but standing in the freezing cold snow. But that's what worried her; in the back of her mind, she knew something was wrong.

"I don't know," she answered. "I think I'm forgetting something."

Peeta laughed. "Well, clothes for one. You never wear dresses. Why today, of all days?"

Katniss sunk down into the snow. Her legs numbed almost instantly.

"I feel like I've been here before," she said slowly.

Peeta stayed standing and looked at her oddly. "Of course you have. We come here every weekend, Katniss."

She shook her head. "Of course I know that. I feel like . . . Déjà Vu. You know? Like this has already happened."

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. Happens to me all the time in the bakery. Same thing, every morning, never changes –"

He cut off abruptly. Their eyes both followed a black bird as it landed on a bush near them.

A Mockingjay.

Peeta blinked at it in surprise. He smiled. "I've never seen one in the winter."

"They can survive in extreme climates," she whispered.

They were silent. And then -

"It's going to fly over to that tree," Katniss pointed to a tiny tree near the forest line. "There are more of them in there."

Sure enough, the Mockingjay fluttered over to the small tree and circled towards the forest with another of its kind.

"I'm dreaming," said Katniss.

Peeta huddled further into his coat. "What?"

"This isn't real. This happened last winter. The snow came in early October – it was the strangest thing. We went hunting and caught a deer."

"Katniss?" Peeta looked concerned. He took a step back from her. "Your arms- -" he muttered slowly.

She looked down. Her arms were blistered. They were steaming. Her legs, which had once been numb from the snow, were now slowly turning red and a horrible black.

"I was on fire," she whispered.

The snow around her melted away.

* * *

"Her heart rate's spiking."

"Probably because we're moving. She must sense something's wrong."

Katniss had no idea what they were talking about.

"I'll push her."

Dad.

The next moment, she was moving forward swiftly. She heard someone else pushing something behind her. They took a sharp corner.

Chaos.

Shouting, cursing, hurried footsteps, crying – gunshots.

Katniss turned her head slowly and opened her eyes when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It had dark, rough skin.

"Calm down, Katniss. You're in the Capitol hospital. We have to evacuate the East Wing. Everything is fine."

Nothing sounded "fine". The building shook and Katniss heard glass breaking.

"Damn it!" Dad whispered. "They'll kill us all if they don't watch it."

Katniss suddenly remembered her dream: the snow, Peeta, her skin. She tried to move her arm but it was too heavy. They had bandaged seemingly every inch of her.

But she was alive.

"Who?" Katniss asked. Her throat was unbelievably dry. She gagged.

Dad leaned closer to her and she scrunched her nose; he smelled horrible.

"Districts One and Two. They're attacking the Capitol. I'll tell you more when we get to the other side of the hospital."

Katniss didn't know if she would be awake when they reached their destination. Her eyes were heavy and her vision was blurry.

"Sleep. You need to sleep as much as you can, Katniss. Don't worry about anything."

She didn't want to go back to sleep – she wanted to ask him a thousand questions. She was finally able to get answers. But Dad was right. She needed to go to sleep. She was too tired . . .

* * *

The next time she awoke, she was completely coherent.

Her vision was sharp again, and her head didn't feel like it was floating anymore.

Dad was propping her up and trying to force-feed her water.

"Had to wake you up. You've been out for days."

Katniss swallowed the water. It felt wonderful. She looked to Dad, who was sitting next to her bed and still wearing the same clothes he had been the day she'd gone into the arena. He looked tired.

"You had to wake me?"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't _have_ to. But I wanted to. The doctors said you were stable."

Katniss remembered her horrible skin in the dream. Did her real skin look like that? She looked at all her bandages; they covered her legs, arms, and she could feel them on her torso underneath her hospital gown.

When she felt Dad looking at her, she met his eyes. He looked sad, and it surprised her. Dad rarely looked so upset.

"You can't keep the bandages on too much. I don't understand their medicine. I never have. They're always developing new treatments. Every couple of hours they place you in some type of tank that helps your skin. It already looks so much better compared with how it looked after the arena."

_After the arena_. It was the elephant in the room. She needed answers. She needed to know what had happened.

"They set me on fire."

Dad looked like he didn't want to talk. He glanced at the closed door of her room, but didn't rise to leave.

"Yes. But if you ask them, they'll tell you it wasn't them. Youset _yourself_ on fire," he scorned.

Katniss felt shame wash over her. She _had_ fallen for it. She had actually believed Mama was in that arena – only for a couple of minutes, but it had been enough. The fire hadn't engulfed her until she willingly jumped into it.

"They tricked me. I don't understand how I could have been so stupid."

Dad shook his head. "You weren't stupid. Everyone the Capitol manipulated in that arena played the Games exactly as they'd planned it. No one outsmarted the Capitol. How could they have?"

Katniss looked at Dad in worry. That didn't sound like him at all . . .

"How much of it was real?"

Dad muted the TV that was droning on in the background.

"Some of it was real. Most of it wasn't."

Katniss knew that Maysilee couldn't have been real. But what else had fooled her?

"The arena?"

Dad nodded. "I can't say I'm completely unhappy about what they did with the arena. You weren't really in danger until they started messing with your mind."

Katniss stared at him. Did he expect her to beg?

"Dad, please. Just tell me."

Dad looked at her warily. He had never looked quite so old.

"Are you sure, Katniss? You can never un-hear what I'm going to tell you. They've already messed with you enough."

Katniss thought about it. Did she want to know? Honestly, what she wanted more than anything was to go back to District Twelve and forget the whole thing ever happened. But if she never found out what happened, she'd spend the rest of her life dreaming about it until she slowly went crazy. She wasn't going to be like Maysilee; she was going to be strong, and the first step was accepting what had happened to her.

Dad must have read the look on her face. He sighed heavily.

"There are some things I can't explain. There are a lot of things no one can explain. Coin and the Capitol have been very discreet. But in every government, I suppose there's bound to be some type of mole."

Katniss waited for him to continue.

"It's so complicated," he explained. "Do you want to hear the worst now or later?"

Katniss wasn't sure any of it could possibly be good. But maybe it was best that he worked up to the worst of it.

"Last."

Dad nodded.

"Okay. Well . . . I'll start from the moment you went into the arena. The mentors were all escorted back to their usual viewing stations. Only we had no way of sending you anything. They prohibited it. Told us that if any of you were in dire need, the Capitol would automatically send you food or weapons."

"Why would I have needed a weapon? There weren't any other tributes?"

_Well, Peeta was there. But he didn't see me. _

Dad grunted. "There were. In the format of the old Games, the Capitol operated the arena from a control panel. They tried to manipulate where the tributes went to cause bloodbaths. Sometimes they'd create natural disasters or add in some type of deadly animal. For these Games, they used the control center to layer the arena."

Katniss should have been surprised. But she remembered shouting at Peeta over and over and knew that Dad's explanation made some sense.

Except . . .

"I saw Peeta. But he didn't see me."

Dad nodded briefly. "They put certain tributes on certain layers. Most tributes had their own layer, but some tributes shared a layer with others. The Capitol fooled with the layers as the Games progressed. They changed who was on which layer. But you were alone. If you were separate from everyone else, you couldn't see or hear much from the other layers."

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why I saw Peeta and he didn't see me."

"I don't know either, sweetheart. I told you I don't know everything. My best guess is that they wanted you to find Peeta so he would be close to you when you finally . . . saw her."

Katniss didn't want to think about _that_. "Why would they have wanted Peeta to be close to me when that happened? He couldn't have done anything to help."

Dad looked at her like she was missing the point. "That's exactly it, Katniss. He _couldn't_ do anything about it, even though he wanted to."

Dad looked at her in concern. "It's going to be bad from here on out. Do you want me to stop?"

Katniss wanted everything to stop. She didn't like how sensitive Dad was being; he wasn't that type of person. He had never shielded her before – her entire life he'd grumbled about war and conspiracy and their imminent deaths. The only thing he had ever kept from her was he and Maysilee's story, and that was because he had always personally struggled with it.

"No."

Katniss felt a wave of dizziness. She looked down and saw that Dad had pressed a button to deliver her medicine.

"Did you just drug me?" She asked bewilderedly. He ignored her.

"All those questions they asked you before the Games? Do you remember them? At the time, we thought they were insane, but all of them had a purpose. They wanted to know everything about you, just in case it became relevant. In the case of these Games, the ultimate goal was fear. They wanted to make you live out your worst fear."

Katniss thought back to Mama, in that forest, going up in flames. She couldn't exactly say it was her worst fear . . .

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dad . . . But you must know what I saw?"

Dad jerkily nodded.

"Well . . . my worst fear isn't seeing her . . . die again."

If Katniss had thought Dad looked uncomfortable before, it was nothing compared to now. He looked anywhere but her when he spoke.

"No. But aren't you afraid you'll be just like her? Haven't you always worried that you'll end up like her, depressed and loveless? That your entire life has been manipulated by the Capitol, just like hers?"

Katniss wanted to deny it. But for some reason, she couldn't.

"Your worst fear wasn't seeing her die, Katniss. You fear becoming her. And so – they made you. They made you believe you needed to jump into that fire."

Katniss was ready for him to stop talking now. Maybe she shouldn't have heard this. Maybe it _was_ too much.

"Then why am I alive?"

Dad gave a bitter, humorless laugh. "Oh, sweetheart. That's the best part. Merciful, powerful Coin. You're lucky you missed her nauseating speech. Her goal, the plan, all of it – she wanted to prove she can control every aspect of your life, even to the point of making you willingly submit to your worst fear. And then, once you had – because she's so merciful– she saved you."

A cold chill ran through Katniss. Suddenly she remembered something – or rather _someone_ - she should have remembered as soon as she'd woken up.

"Peeta. Dad, Peeta? W – what?" She didn't know what to ask first.

Dad held up a hand to calm her. "He's fine, Katniss. That was the point. She saved anyone who did as she wanted. Peeta . . . Katniss, that's why she wanted him close to you in that arena. His worst fear, at least at the point of the mentor questioning him, was not being able to save you. It makes sense – he volunteered to try to save you, he argued with me to let him die for you. He wanted to give his life to make sure you lived. And when the time came – he couldn't. He saw you, but he couldn't get to you. He fought, though."

Dad's last words were an afterthought. Something in his voice rang alarm bells in Katniss's mind.

"He's fine? Where is he then?"

Dad shook his head. "He's doing about as well as you. And he's in the hospital too. Don't worry about him right now. Just trust me."

Katniss had a feeling whatever Dad was hiding was in the category of "I don't want to know, but I need to". For now, she was willing to let it go, only because she still needed more answers about the Games, and Dad was the only one she'd trust to give them.

"So how did they do it, Dad? How did they make me see her? And hear her?"

Dad didn't answer her for a while. Katniss could see the struggle on his face.

_He doesn't deserve this_, Katniss thought.

"The mole. In the Capitol. Whoever it is, and I don't actually know who it is, Katniss," he cut her off when she opened her mouth to ask, "Well, he or she has brought forth undeniable data that proves the Capitol has been experimenting all these years."

Experimenting.

Katniss hated that word.

"What does that mean?" Her voice quivered.

Dad sighed. "They wanted to create something to control all the senses. From what I was told, they didn't have to look far. The answer was right in front of them, created by the old Capitol. All they had to do was perfect it."

Katniss, in some strange way, felt comforted. So it hadn't been her; her brain hadn't been voluntarily conjuring Maysilee. She had no control over it.

And suddenly Katniss knew. Dad's face, his underlying anger, his defeat – she'd seen it once before, only that time he'd been incoherent and screaming in their front yard.

"Jabberjays?"

The room was silent. Dad gave one short nod.

"Partly. For you, at least. Most of the other tributes didn't hallucinate specific people."

"The other part?" Katniss felt her skin start to burn and itch. She didn't know if it was from her emotional upset or if it always felt like that now. Regardless, she ignored it.

"They had her voice," Dad ignored her other question. "She gave so many interviews over the years."

Katniss could see his eyes glazing over. "Dad. Dad, please."

He didn't answer.

"I know I was distracted, Dad, but I didn't see any Jabberjays. Besides, they couldn't have known what I would imagine her saying."

Dad reached behind him and grabbed something. Katniss was surprised to see that his bottle of whiskey still remained unopened. He studied the label for the countless time.

"There weren't Jabberjays. That's what I'm trying to say. Coin's Capitol took ideas from the old Capitol and experimented. They came up with some type of serum. Depending on the level of hallucination, emotion, delusion they wanted you to have they could adjust the formula of the serum to give the desired results."

Katniss scoffed. "That doesn't really make sense."

"Tracker Jackers. They produce powerful hallucinations. Jabberjays. They had the ability to repeat any conversation they overheard. Somehow, the Capitol managed to tweak the effects of both and create some big, messed up drug."

Katniss looked at his wary form. "Dad, listen to me. That doesn't make sense! How could they have possibly controlled that? I ate the squirrels, but they couldn't have controlled the chemical once it was inside of me."

Dad grunted. "Wasn't the stupid squirrels."

He reached over her and pulled up her sleeve. Gently, he pulled back the bandage over her burn. Katniss only focused on the red, disfigured skin for a moment. Because in the center of her forearm there was a huge, infected gash that had been stitched up.

"The trackers they gave you right before we went down to the rooms with the capsules. They continuously fed the formula straight into the tributes' veins. Direct and nearly immediate effects."

Katniss looked at her arm. The veins surrounding the gash were all a horribly visible black color. She scowled in disgust and forced her sleeve back down.

"So the trackers weren't trackers? They produced the chemical?"

Dad shrugged. "I guess. I'm not an expert on it, but that's the rumor. Coin didn't expect the formula to infect everyone like it did, though. Tracker Jacker venom can kill if given in too great amounts – they tried to remove that aspect, but weren't completely successful. Once she saved everyone she could from the arena, you all got really sick. Took them a couple of hours to realize it was a side effect of the formula. The more they fed you, the worse off you were."

Katniss closed her eyes. She could still picture the ghastly stitches and veins that lied underneath her sleeve.

"One of the tributes died from it. The girl from Two. They fed her way too much of the stuff. I guess they were trying to make her overly angry so she would act rashly. She passed out in the arena. They tried to revive her, but it was too late."

Katniss didn't have anything to say. What could she possibly say? This entire thing was so diabolical she couldn't imagine why Coin had thought it was a good idea.

"So this entire time, we all thought the point of the Games were to prove to Panem that even though the Capitol has the power to return to how it was before the war, they weren't. But now . . . what does this mean?"

Dad reached forward and grabbed Katniss's hand. She had been unconsciously scratching her arm. Blood was seeping through her bandages.

"The point, I'm told, was to show Panem that Coin has the ability to make us do whatever she wants us to do, even if it's our worst fear. That she can find out anything. That she has means that we couldn't possibly imagine to control us."

From the look on his face, Katniss suspected that Coin had convinced at least one person. Dad had never looked so nervous.

"And? Did it work out for her?" Katniss couldn't recall feeling quite so much hatred in her life.

Dad shrugged. "I would think the response of Panem indicates that it did. Fear propelled them into action. But instead of bowing down and accepting her dictatorship, Panem's rebellion grew. They had to end the Games early, Katniss. The day after you jumped into that fire, the Games ended."

"That's what you heard, the day we evacuated the East Wing. Districts One and Two have been building up armies for the past year. When the Games aired and things just kept getting worse and worse in the arena, it was the final straw."

"Coin hardly had any guards left in the Capitol. She's been shipping them out left and right because the rebellions in every District are growing. She wasn't anticipating that Districts One and Two had so much manpower and ammunition. When they got here, there was hardly anyone to fight them. The citizens of District Thirteen were surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing. They didn't help the rebellion, but they didn't fight them."

"They went for Coin?"

Dad shook his head. "No. They went for the control panel for the Hunger Games. Completely destroyed the entire building. As soon as they arrived in the Capitol, Coin pulled everyone out of the arena in hopes it would be enough to convince the rebellion to stop."

"The only reason we had to change sides of the hospital is because the East Wing is close to City Hall, where the fighting is most intense. Despite how far they've come in this war, One and Two still can't break through the guards at City Hall."

Katniss had a feeling she needed to go into whatever "tank" Dad had mentioned earlier. Her skin was prickling painfully and itching nonstop. But she didn't want to upset Dad anymore than he already was, so she kept it quiet.

"How many of us died?"

For some reason, the only face Katniss could picture was that girl from District Four – she had been so depressed and decidedly without help. Had she survived?

Dad looked thoughtful. "Well, a couple tributes did manage to kill others. Both tributes from Thirteen and the boy from Two were killed. A tribute from Eight died due to an accident. She fell and hit her head – died instantly. The girl from Two died because of the drug."

Five tributes. Hardly any. But Katniss had to wonder – thinking about the condition of her skin, picturing the image of Maysilee burning – was she really any luckier than those who had died? And what of the other tributes? What condition were they in?

Katniss looked at Dad from the corners of her eyes. Somehow, this last question she wanted to ask him was the worst. She was terrified of the answer.

"Dad, please tell me about Peeta."

He was silent for many moments. She reached out to touch his arm.

"Please."

Dad looked at her cautiously. "If you get too upset I'm going to knock you out. I don't want you doing anything rash in your condition."

She pulled her hand back from him and gave him a fake smile to cover her nerves.

"Telling me that isn't going to help. It only makes me worry more."

He pushed his greasy dark hair away from his face. His eyes were sympathetic.

"He tried to save you. I already told you that. They created some type of huge dog to keep him away from you. It – well, he lost part of his right leg, Katniss. From the knee down."

Katniss sighed in relief. That wasn't so bad, was it? Just part of his leg. It was horrible, of course, but he was still relatively fine. He hadn't jumped into the fire after her.

"They can replace it, right? I mean, if they can heal my skin, they can replace part of a leg?"

Dad nodded. "Yes," he said tiredly, "they will give him a leg to replace what he's lost. I'm more concerned with his mental state though, to be honest. He's not taking any of this very well at all."

Katniss felt her eyes burning, and for a second she feared that maybe the fire had gotten them too. But then she realized she was crying.

Not Peeta – this is what she'd feared since the day of the reaping when he volunteered. Peeta was happy and optimistic and warm. He didn't deserve to suffer. He'd done so much for her over the years. How did she repay him? By convincing him that he needed to volunteer and now not only was he missing part of his leg; now, he was missing the part of him that had always made him Peeta.

"Let me see him."

Dad immediately put up an arm to block her, even though she hadn't attempted to move.

"No. You can't. He's – he's not taking it well, I've already told you. If he sees you, the way you are . . . it will only make him worse."

Katniss shook her head in denial. "No! I can help him, Dad! You know he'd be there for me. Just let me talk to him."

Dad pushed her back on her bed when she tried to get up. She hissed as burns on her back brushed against fabric.

"Katniss, he's not ready. He's half convinced you're dead. It's taken me two days to make him believe I'm not lying – that you really are alive. He insists you burned alive, which you essentially did, of course. He doesn't believe the Capitol could have saved you."

"Well then why are you arguing with me?" Katniss shouted. "I could solve all of this if you would let me talk to him!"

"Katniss, you haven't seen yourself!" He shouted back. "Almost every inch of your body is covered in burns! You were practically charred when they pulled you out of there. If they hadn't already known that you were going to be on fire, you probably would have died! They had the treatments ready the moment they removed you."

Katniss remembered her dream. She looked to her covered legs and wondered if they were as black and blistering as she'd imagined.

"It will only upset him more if he sees you this way. I told you; I've managed to almost convince him you're okay. Within the next couple of weeks, the doctors say you will look exponentially better. I'll let you see him then."

Katniss's head had started to hurt. This entire thing was so unbelievable – just over a week and a half ago her life had been normal. She'd been hunting with her bow and arrows, chasing geese around, and spending her afternoons with Peeta. How could things have accelerated so fast? Why did she have to be in the middle of it all?

Why did _Peeta_ have to be in the middle of it all?

She wasn't ready for a war, no matter how much she'd thought she'd been. She wasn't strong enough.

Her skin was destroyed. She didn't even want to look in the mirror.

Dad was breaking apart again. How could she help him, or Peeta, if she couldn't even keep it together?

Katniss jumped when Dad leaned over her on the bed and grabbed her face in his hands.

"Calm down, Katniss. I promise you, everything will be fine."

She realized that her heart monitor was beeping like crazy and her tears were flowing more freely. There was a knock on the door.

Dad sighed. "Probably a nurse. You're overdo for your treatments."

Katniss breathed deeply while he went to open the door. Her heart rate slowed.

Dad took a sharp step back when the door opened to reveal a black-clad Capitol guard on the other side. The guard ignored Dad and stepped into the room.

Katniss looked at him with wide eyes. It made her uncomfortable, not being able to see his face; his black helmet covered his entire head. Was he going to kill her?

"Ms. Abernathy?" His voice sounded human – something she hadn't been expecting.

She nodded in bewilderment.

"President Coin is here to speak with you."


	12. Marionette

**Chapter Eleven: **Marionette

The President was smaller than Katniss was expecting.

She barely reached the guard's shoulder. Her white hair was cut pristinely into a straight-edged bob. She wasn't dressed like a President; instead, she wore a simpler version of the guard's uniform, minus the helmet.

"Haymitch," Coin looked first to Dad, who was scowling next to the opened door.

Dad's face went surprisingly blank at Coin's greeting. He jerked his head towards her in acknowledgement.

"Your Majesty."

Coin gave him one, calculated and hate-filled look before turning to her guard.

"This will be a private meeting. One-on-one."

The guard nodded. Without words, he spun around and aimed his weapon at Dad, who promptly fell to the ground.

Katniss squawked indignantly. Coin looked to her, and Katniss quieted immediately. The President made her so nervous that she couldn't find words.

"He's fine, Katniss. Just knocked out – it's a tranquilizer of sorts."

Coin paid the guard no attention as he grabbed Dad by the arms and dragged him out of the room. The President sat down in the chair next to Katniss's hospital bed and studied her.

The look on her face felt condescending – she actually appeared to look kind. Katniss stared back at the older woman with wide eyes.

"You look well, considering," said Coin quietly. "The fire really was awful."

Katniss continued to be silent. What did Coin expect her to say? Thank you for healing me?

Coin sighed. "I am sorry about your dad. He can be short-tempered and I didn't want him to do anything rash."

When it became apparent that Katniss wasn't going to do anything but stare back at Coin with disgust, the President nodded and patted a manila folder she'd carried into the room with her.

"I have come to discuss the current state of things. I'm going around to all the tributes and giving them the explanations they deserve."

When Katniss didn't reply, Coin continued speaking.

"I didn't want to reinstate the Games. You should know that. I owe all of you tributes an immense apology. But it was out of my control."

Coin opened the folder and looked at its contents sadly. She held up a picture.

Katniss didn't know where the picture had been taken, but she had to admit it looked gruesome. At least a hundred bodies scattered the ground, all dead and bloodied. Papers, machinery, and parts of buildings were littered throughout the casualties.

"This is from a year ago, Katniss. In District One. A train from the Capitol was scheduled to deliver a supply of rations. Hardly before the train stopped to unload, it was blown up. One hundred and twelve people died – some of them mere passengers that wanted to travel to District One."

Coin produced photograph after photograph of the aftermath of battles and explosions, all supposedly occurring within the past year in Districts One and Two, with even a couple occurring in Four.

"I tried sending in security. You know that, Katniss. I sent guards to every District, and the fighting only intensified. Within a day or two, even normal peace-loving citizens were resorting to violence. They were following in the footsteps of these rebels because they perceived the guards as a threat."

Coin's ice blue eyes looked at Katniss curiously. "You know that my guards never used force unless required. You saw them, the day they arrived in your District. They stood around your citizens and aimed their weapons but did not harm any of them. As soon as the protocol was explained to the citizens, the guards left everyone alone."

Katniss felt words finally balancing on the tip of her tongue.

"The protocol - you set curfews. You set limits of travel, and communication, and reinstated laws that haven't been active since President Snow. All before you even announced the Games. Why wouldn't we take that as a sign of force?"

Coin looked at her appraisingly. "Yes, I won't deny that. But none of you knew of the violence happening in far away Districts. You didn't know the threat."

"The threat was to you. Not us. One and Two, and Four only attacked if it was directly related to the Capitol –"

"Don't you understand? You're blinded by your biases."

Coin pulled out a stack of papers from her folder but didn't show just one to Katniss. She held them all up in her hand, and Katniss could now see underlying anger in her face.

"These are documents that indicate how much resources went to each District in the past three years. I have more documents going back to the day I was inaugurated. Districts One, Two, and Four are demanding more supplies, more resources, more food, more, more and more. Panem only has so much to give. They reacted like children when my officials and I refused to give into their demands and find loopholes in our laws. The laws created to directly rectify the damage President Snow had been making for decades."

Coin looked distinctly distressed. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes wide with anger.

"These Districts, the "Career" Districts, were much more reluctant to join our side in the last rebellion. They didn't _want_ Snow to be overthrown. Katniss, you weren't alive back then. You don't know his tyranny. My home District was blasted from the map by the government Snow put his faith in. For all that you hate about me and my government, have I ever, before these Hunger Games, used violence against you?"

Katniss was silent; she remembered her distinct words to Dad the day the Capitol guards invaded District Twelve: _Why would we rebel? We're actually _happier_ than before the war._

"I have been to District Twelve, Katniss. I know how much you all struggled after your District was bombed. If I were such a horrible person, wouldn't I have reconstructed the fence around your District? Wouldn't I have stopped your local government from prospering?"

When Katniss had no angry comeback, Coin calmed down and leaned back in her chair.

"Not every rebellion is for the better of the people. Think about it. Would you _want_ to live under One and Two's laws? Of all the bloodbaths they've been causing, have they ever fought for the rights of other Districts? They are thinking only of themselves. And they are trying to drag everyone else into their cause. Katniss, if they win this rebellion, things will be far worse for Panem than they are now."

Coin's wrinkling face looked at Katniss solemnly. "I know you hate me. You have every right. The Games were horrid; you burned alive. I will admit that my strategy to try to obtain control was not successful, and in the end I will also admit that it was not humane. I am sorry. But think of the future, Katniss. If One, Two, and Four win this rebellion, what will happen to Panem? Will District Twelve remain the same?"

Katniss's arms and legs were still burning as they had been when Dad was in the room, but now she was able to ignore the pain. God help her, she was starting to understand Coin's side of things . . .

Coin put her pictures and documents back in the folder. She looked less stern now than she had when she'd entered the room.

"Snow's vision of Panem had favorites. The more you agreed with his view of things, the more he valued you. The rebels of this rebellion are suffering from the results of his favoritism. I understand their view, of course. They lived their lives one way, prospered more than the majority of Districts, and then one day it was all taken away from them. And I've refused to give in to their antics. Of course they want me gone."

Katniss cleared her throat. "Don't Districts One, Two, and Four have more citizens than the rest? Wouldn't they _need_ more supplies and food?"

Coin opened her folder forcefully and blinked at Katniss in frustration.

"I have the proof, right here. Yes, they have more citizens. But the Capitol and I have compensated for that. They _do_ get more supplies and food than the rest of Panem. They are just unsatisfied that they don't get enough to live in luxury anymore."

Katniss felt horrible; she felt just as she had in the arena – that she was being pulled into a trap with no way to escape.

"Then why not just tell the rest of Panem what you're telling me? Why did you automatically resort to the Hunger Games?"

Coin stared at Katniss with piercing eyes and didn't reply. She shut her folder once more and let out a long breath.

Katniss knew she was being foolish, but once the words were out she couldn't stop the flow of her anger.

"And if you're so innocent then why aren't the citizens of District Thirteen helping your cause? If you are so against favoritism, then why are the majority of the Capitol government officials from Thirteen?"

Coin looked Katniss straight in the eyes. Silence echoed through the room, and Katniss could hear her heartbeat increase on the monitor.

"Don't criticize that which you don't understand," were the only words Coin offered in reply.

But Katniss knew she'd hit a nerve. Coin couldn't be as truthful as she claimed.

The President reached into her pocket and removed a small, electronic device.

"This is for you. It goes in your ear. You will need it tomorrow."

Katniss looked down at the device with a scowl. The last electronic device given to her by the Capitol had caused severe hallucinations, delusions, and ultimately had infected half her arm.

"Why?"

Coin stood from her chair and her face lost all of its previous anger.

"Because I am going to tell Panem my opinion of things, as you so rudely suggested. And you, along with the other tributes, are going to help me explain."

Katniss gave a small, incredulous smile that pulled on her burnt skin.

"You're kidding."

Coin shook her head. "No, I am not. The main wrong I will openly admit I have done is reinstating these Games, and that is the reason the rest of Panem is starting to rebel. If the tributes themselves will publically accept my apology and stand behind me, it might help calm the rebellion."

Katniss shook her head. "You're crazy. None of us will accept any apology. Look at me. How could Panem possibly think I'm being sincere if I accept? How could I possibly be genuine?"

Coin strode to the door.

"Lucky for you, you won't have to worry about that. That's what the earpiece is for. A Capitol representative will be feeding you the proper responses word for word."

Katniss's previous tolerance of Coin was vanishing by the minute.

"You know, if you didn't order everyone around and decide what's best for everyone, maybe more people would believe your story. You almost had me convinced."

Coin shook her head sadly. "You shouldn't need to be convinced. I'm telling you the truth. Everything I've done has been for the good of our country. I'm the President– it's my job to decide what's best for everyone."

Katniss thought that maybe she would pay for her words later, but now was the perfect opportunity to speak her mind.

"Even if you're telling the truth. Even if One and Two, and Four – even if District Eight or Six decides they have a problem with you – there are better ways to handle it then subjecting your citizens to the Hunger Games, or by flooding the Districts with armed guards – regardless if they have orders to shoot or not. Don't criticize One and Two for wanting to go back to the old ways since you also reverted back to them by reinstating these Games. It might be your job to decide what's best for everyone, but you need to rethink your strategies if you want any of us to believe you, let alone follow you."

Coin raised her eyebrows and scanned her eyes across Katniss's burns.

"I think I've already proven that I can make you believe anything, and tomorrow you'll see that following me also comes quite easily."

Katniss averted her eyes.

"Don't destroy the earpiece. I'll just give you another."

Coin went to open the door but stopped as if she'd just remembered something.

"Katniss."

Katniss looked up at Coin's tone – she sounded tired, and defeated, and wary.

"I know I've screwed up. I know you, and probably most of Panem hate me right now. I realize my motives aren't pure. But please – if you want to go home to the District Twelve you've always known, back to living your life how it's been since you were born – think about what a war is going to do."

Katniss highly doubted that Coin would let things return to normal again, rebellion or not.

Coin must have read the emotions on her face.

"We have a common enemy, Katniss. The Career Districts should not automatically be your ally just because they are my enemy. Remember that."

Coin waited for a reply, but Katniss was done arguing. The President nodded to her.

"I will see you tomorrow. Hopefully, by that time, you will genuinely support the message you deliver to Panem."

Katniss watched the door shut behind her.

_If Coin can convince me she's not the enemy, she really _can _do anything._

* * *

AN: There's about four to five chapters left of the story. The twists aren't all done yet.

Who do you agree with, Coin or the rebellion?


	13. Ultimatum

**Chapter Twelve: **Ultimatum

"Is this safe?"

The nurse, Nila, looked at Katniss cautiously.

"Yes. It will not be on you for long. An hour or two at the most. Once it's removed, you will go to your next treatment session."

Katniss wasn't comforted by Nila's words; she glanced at the other nurse, Trinity, who was preparing for the procedure.

"You know, your skin really isn't too bad," said Nila softly. "It looks so much better, compared to how it looked right after you came out of the arena."

Katniss ignored her compliment. Multiple people had already said that to her: Dad, Coin, the nightshift nurse, the morning-shift nurse, even the janitor. It was the one subject people, for some reason, thought was perfectly acceptable to bring up.

"Where's my dad?" Katniss changed the subject.

Nila glanced at the door of the room. "He's waiting outside."

Katniss's eyes followed the nurse Trinity as she picked up some type of beige material and placed it in a tray.

"My skin can't look that good," Katniss returned to the previous subject, "or Coin wouldn't want me to be shiny and new."

Nila tilted her head in concentration. "Well . . . the President doesn't want to cause alarm. That is why she's giving you this synthetic skin for the broadcast."

Katniss rolled her eyes. Nila was under the impression that nothing at all was wrong with this situation; they'd taken Katniss out of her room, shackled her to a bed, and were now preparing to somehow put synthetic skin on all visible parts of her body.

Trinity, an older nurse who had white hair and a stern face, brought the tray full of fake skin over to the table next to Katniss's bed.

Her eyes were hard, but not unkind, as they met Katniss's.

"Do not fight us. It will only cause us both more problems than necessary. I assure you, any discomfort you feel will be temporary. After the broadcast, you will return to this room, we will remove the synthetic skin, and then you will proceed to your normal treatment session."

Katniss sighed in disgust. How _could_ she fight them? Her ankles, wrists, and torso were tied down to the bed. Even if she wasn't restrained, she was hardly mobile enough to fight. Her skin was still too sensitive for normal movement.

Nila carefully removed the shackle from Katniss's right wrist.

"This won't take long at all," she said quietly.

Trinity lifted up the material to place it on her arm, and Katniss got a glimpse of the wet, fake beige skin. It disgusted her, so she looked to the ceiling. Maybe she could use this situation to her advantage . . .

"Are you from District Thirteen?" Katniss asked Nila, who had been nicer to her and more open to conversation.

Nila met Katniss's eyes for a brief second before looking away.

"We can still sedate you," Trinity warned.

"No," Nila interrupted. "It's perfectly okay. Of course she's curious. There's nothing I can tell her that she can't find out on the streets."

Trinity's wrinkled face became wary and she shook her head disapprovingly at Nila.

"No one understands, Nila. Especially not her. Don't waste your breath."

Katniss was bad at acting, but she supposed she could still try.

"No!" She exclaimed. "I – I think I was beginning to understand, when President Coin came to speak with me. I just . . . I don't know enough."

Trinity placed the synthetic skin to Katniss's hand and she hissed – it stung.

Nila was silent for many moments, and Katniss figured maybe she wasn't going to get anywhere after all.

"In the very first rebellion, before Snow was President, it was the citizens of District Thirteen who started the war."

Katniss tried to meet Nila's eyes, but she was purposely focusing on watching Trinity apply the skin.

"I wasn't alive then, obviously, but when the other Districts began to fall, Thirteen threatened nuclear war. Nuclear science has always been one of our specialties. To prevent it, the Capitol made an agreement with our District – we could be independent, completely separate from the rest of Panem, as long as we didn't start a nuclear war."

Katniss had a feeling that a long, long time ago she'd heard this; but people rarely focused on the old histories anymore.

"We were still bombed, though," Nila continued, "the Capitol wanted to ensure there was no trace that our District still existed, just in case anyone came looking. We were forced to move underground, where we remained for seventy-five years."

Trinity moved on to Katniss's left arm.

"Independence had its advantages, of course. We didn't have to participate in the Hunger Games. The Capitol mostly kept its word and ignored our continued existence. But eventually, our confinement took its toll. The only resources we had were those we could obtain on our own. We had a pox outbreak – many of us died, and most of those who didn't became infertile."

Trinity carefully constructed the skin around Katniss's fingers. "We had technology far beyond the capacity of the Capitol's technology, but I still expect we couldn't have lasted forever without outside interaction."

Katniss looked at Trinity in surprise; she wasn't expecting the nurse to join in on the conversation.

Nila nodded. "I was twenty when the second rebellion started. Thirteen made contact with the right people, and soon the headquarters for the rebellion were centered in our District. We might have essentially broken free from Panem, but that didn't mean we were happy about it. We only wanted free from the Capitol, not the entire country. We knew that one day, the rest of the Districts would find the right opportunity to rebel, and when they did we'd join them again."

Trinity still refused to look Katniss in the eye, but she did offer her own input.

"Unlike the rest of the Districts, we had many advantages. We could offer advanced weaponry and technology. We were essentially still nonexistent to most of Panem, so we could operate without detection, for the most part."

Katniss didn't want to be rude, but the majority of the information they were giving her was old news.

"Yes, I've heard some of this," she said tentatively. "But . . . you must know that I'm more curious about . . . what's happening now with your District."

The nurses looked at each other with wariness.

"I – I just mean, the guards. All the laws she's placed over us. How she reaped two of your District's children."

Nila nodded. "I know what you mean."

But as they moved on to the tops of Katniss's shoulders and her neck, neither of them offered more information.

"What about the war? I've heard that One and Two are trying to take over the Capitol's City hall. Are you fighting them?"

Katniss knew for a fact they weren't, but she wanted to know what they'd tell her.

Trinity gave her an exasperated look.

"We don't want a war," Nila said calmly. "So no, we haven't been. But so far, they've tried to avoid the citizens and focus solely on certain areas. If they start to attack our homes, we'll have no choice."

With a deep breath for courage, she continued, "I'm confused. Whose side are you on?"

Trinity was careful as she placed skin around Katniss's eyes, but she pressed slightly harder than necessary.

"If you wouldn't have interrupted us, we would have gotten there," she snapped.

"What you said about the guards, and the Hunger Games, and the tributes," Nila interrupted, "that's what you're failing to understand. It's what the majority of Panem is failing to grasp."

"You just seem so indifferent," Katniss offered.

Nila shrugged. "Yes, but only because we don't want to fight anyone. Not President Coin, not the other Districts. We're happy with our lives. When the President placed the guards on our streets, and set curfews, and reaped our children – yes, it's sad, but it's nothing compared to how we lived in the past. Believe it or not, you've seen nothing of confinement, Katniss, regardless of what you believe. These guards, the laws, the Games – they're all peace offerings. President Coin is trying to stop the rebellion without force."

_They're brainwashed,_ Katniss thought.

"In District Thirteen, we had much stricter policies. We had set schedules for each and every second of our days. We had assigned jobs. We had nearly no freedom, but we understood the need. And as soon as we moved here, and Panem was restored with a better government, things got exponentially better for us. President Coin gave us a chance at a normal life. So if guards and curfews are what she feels are necessary to maintain peace, then we will gladly accept them."

"Really? So the Hunger Games didn't bother you at all? Coin told me she regretted reinstating them, especially because they are a reminder of the old Capitol."

Trinity took a deep breath and checked all of Katniss's new skin to make sure it was in place.

"I don't claim to know everything. But I believe what the President said in her speech, right after the Games ended – they were necessary to remind the Districts of Panem's history. She needed to prove the Capitol is strong and still maintains control over the citizens."

"Can you look me in the eyes and tell me the Hunger Games were for the better of this country? Me – of all people."

Trinity, who hadn't been able to look Katniss in the eyes the entire time she'd been in the room with her, did not reply.

Nila's face appeared above Katniss's though, and her light green eyes were cautious.

"What they did to you was horrible," she admitted, "but also necessary. There are sacrifices in every war."

Katniss, who had actually liked Nila, now didn't want within a hundred feet of her. Katniss wished that the skin on her face was real skin – then they could have seen it get red in anger. Instead, Katniss could only glare.

The nurses started packing up their supplies without any more conversation.

Katniss was inwardly fuming, and as soon as she was wheeled out into the hallway and saw Dad, she glared at him too.

"Hello, sunshine," he smiled. "You look . . . refreshed."

Had he sounded sarcastic, Katniss would have gone through the roof. But his tone sounded extremely forced.

Her room was at the end of the hall. Nila separated from them when they passed the nursing station, but Trinity pushed her to her room.

When everything was sorted, and Dad was in the bathroom, Trinity finally leaned over Katniss and forced her to meet her eyes.

"Nila means no offense. None of us do. Not even President Coin. We think differently than the rest of you - we had to for a very long time. This is just our way of life."

The nurse left the room. Her words hadn't made Katniss feel the least bit better.

Dad came out from the bathroom and gave her a half-smile.

"You look horrible. That skin is the wrong tone for you."

Katniss hated that he knew how to distract her. "Does it look fake?"

Dad nodded. "Yes, but only because I know it's fake. No one else will notice. They'll think you're just pale."

"Just great," said Katniss.

Dad looked at her seriously. "You can do this, Katniss. Don't get me wrong, I hate her. I think everything she says is bullshit. But refusing to say what they tell you to say isn't going to get you anywhere. You can't fight. Even I can't fight. We're in the middle of them. Once you're healed, we'll think of something. Get out of here. Maybe we'll run off like I was planning."

Katniss let him have his delusions.

"Will Peeta be there for the broadcast?" She asked. He looked at her sharply.

"Yes, but you probably won't get the chance to talk."

Katniss didn't think it was fair at all; Dad went to see Peeta daily, if not more than once a day. Katniss _still_ couldn't see him, and only because Dad was refusing to let them together. If she could have wheeled her own bed to him, she would have by now.

"Can he walk now?"

Dad looked like he wanted her to shut up. "Yes. Not well, but he can get around."

"I don't understand why you're being so hard-headed about this whole thing," she said for the hundredth time.

"I'm respecting his wishes, Katniss. He doesn't want to see you."

That hurt. What could she have possibly done to him?

Dad's eyes softened and he shook his head in frustration. "Now don't go looking like that. I wasn't being completely truthful. He just doesn't want to see anyone. Only sees me because I can force my way through – I'm still considered his mentor."

Katniss still felt like the entire thing was unfair. She could help Peeta if they'd let her go see him.

Dad leaned forward and grabbed her hand. She looked up at him, surprised but accepting. His grey eyes were serious and alert.

"I want you to know that I'm not going to let them do to you, what they did to me and your mother. I couldn't control the reaping. But I can control what happens from here on out. We can disappear, Katniss. When the time is right, we'll go far away from this Capitol and Coin. We'll get some more geese and live in a hut for all I care. But I wouldn't be a good father if I let them continue to manipulate and use you."

Unlike that day when Dad had frantically dragged her halfway across Victor's Village wildly running and sputtering, she now agreed with him. Running away didn't sound like a bad idea at all. But it still didn't sound any more realistic.

"Okay," she humored him. "We can. But I have to be healed first."

Katniss looked to her nightstand, where the earpiece Coin had given her still sat. She picked it up and examined it.

"Aren't you afraid anymore, of them bugging the rooms?"

It was a fair question; on the train, Dad had been reluctant to say anything. Now, he was spilling plans of escape in a Capitol owned building.

Dad shrugged. "We're the least of their concerns, believe me. One and Two are getting closer to completely taking over the City Hall."

Katniss didn't want to talk about anything she'd heard from Nila or Trinity; she'd told Dad what Coin had said to her, and all it did was make him furious. He'd ranted loudly until a guard was sent to threaten him with sedatives again.

Katniss was glad he'd returned to his old self – the man he'd been before her reaping. But she also knew that he was pushing it. Coin wouldn't put up with him forever.

"What about the rest of the Districts? Have you heard anything else?" she whispered.

Dad looked at her in silence for a moment, a look that was much more serious than she'd expected, and shook his head.

"No. We're in the Capitol. The flow of outside information is highly monitored."

The dreaded knock sounded on her door. Dad sighed and heaved himself out of his chair.

The guards came through, motioned Dad out, and he went with relatively little fuss.

"The broadcast begins in twenty minutes," said the nearest guard. Katniss nodded. She'd known that it would be soon.

A guard helped her into a wheelchair they'd brought in. He pushed her to an elevator, where they went down to the basement of the building.

They passed very few people on their way. Katniss wondered if Coin had told them all to be waiting at TVs to watch her speech.

The basement was clean and dim. Katniss was wheeled into a small room, in which there were two women waiting for her.

"We are here to help you dress," one of them said. She held up a simple uniform, one that looked exactly like the one Coin had worn the day she'd visited Katniss.

While one woman helped her carefully dress without hitting her burns or her synthetic skin, the other put the earpiece gently in her ear.

"Do you want to see yourself?"

Katniss looked to the cheerful woman and shrugged. Not particularly.

The woman nodded. "Yes, of course. I understand. You're probably waiting until your real skin is healed."

Katniss ignored her and tried to walk around the room. Her legs were stiff from not being used, and her skin still pulled slightly with movement. But she could walk, and for that she was grateful.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and then without pause it opened to reveal President Coin.

The two women nodded to her in respect and left without any words being spoken.

Katniss gave a jerk of her head in recognition but continued to walk around.

Coin was dressed in the same outfit she had been on the day of the reaping; it wasn't a uniform, but it was dreadfully dull and formal. The bright blue was peculiar to Katniss - no one else in the Capitol wore such an outfit. Then again, maybe that was the point.

"I've come to tell you one last thing. I got distracted, that day we spoke, and forgot to mention it."

Katniss raised her eyebrows and stopped pacing, wondering what on earth Coin could possibly want to say to her.

"I chose you for a reason, Katniss. But I'm sure you knew that."

Katniss had thought about the reaping many times. It was on her list of worst days ever.

"Yes," she said curtly.

Coin nodded. "Do you know why?"

Katniss shrugged and felt overtly frustrated. Couldn't Coin just say "I hate you" and leave her alone?

"Because I'm a symbol," she said sarcastically. "The daughter of the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve. You wanted to twist the knife further."

Coin blinked. "Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it. But you're not entirely correct."

Katniss snorted. "Okay. You don't know me. Why would you choose me then?"

Coin sighed. "Because while I may not know you, and while Panem may not know you, we are very familiar with your parents, just as you've said. Haymitch and Maysilee were rebels in every sense of the word. People rooted for them, believed they could do anything. They put their faith in them."

Katniss hated that Coin had the nerve to say this to her face.

"I couldn't reap Haymitch, obviously. But I could choose to reap his daughter. I could use her as a symbol. It was the perfect plan – show Panem that while he had once had been able to outsmart Snow, he couldn't outsmart me. I thought it would be proof that I could control anyone. I thought it would imply that even the most sincere and strong of rebels would ultimately fail."

Katniss gave a small, sarcastic smile. "You speak as though you've realized that didn't work."

Coin nodded. "Oh, yes. I know it didn't work."

They were silent. Wasn't there something else Coin could be doing right now?

"I was a rebel once too, Katniss," Coin said abruptly. "But over the years, it seems I've forgotten what that's like. I underestimated these rebels; I thought I could control them, change their mind. But it's gotten to the point where negotiations are inconceivable – they could care less whether I change my mind and give them what they want – now, they just want me dead."

Katniss was slightly glad that Coin was finally getting the point, but it didn't make her any less confused.

"Why are you telling _me_ this?" Katniss asked.

Coin stared at her intently. "Because you can help me, Katniss. You have more influence than you realize. The Career Districts might be lost forever, but the rest of Panem is still teetering on an edge. They haven't started to fight. They realize they could lose everything.

"I need you to go into the broadcast and convince them that I'm the best choice for Panem. Tell them what it would be like, if the Careers gain control. They'll listen to you; they know what you've been through. They know you wouldn't be on my side unless I was in the right."

Katniss looked at her bewilderedly. "Yes, and I'm sure they'll believe my skin is completely healed."

"Well, they know we've got treatments –"

"And I'm sure they won't think about the fact that you've tricked me before, or that you wouldn't think of giving me an earpiece," she exclaimed and pointed to her ear.

Coin pursed her lips. "As I've said, they really don't want a war. They'll believe anything to avoid one."

Katniss felt nervous and unsure, but she was also tired of Coin, and of the Capitol, and this war.

She threw her earpiece to the ground and stepped on it. "I'm not doing it."

Coin looked at the smashed earpiece with disgust. "Yes, you are. You know very well what I'm capable of."

Katniss gave a sarcastic laugh. "What are you going to do? Kill me? You can't kill me, if I really am as important as you say. You kill me, and I guarantee that things will only get worse for you."

Coin nodded. "Yes, I can't kill you. I can't even kill your father. He is also important. But I know of someone else who is very close to you that I can kill. Someone who is decidedly unimportant. I believe his name is Peeta?"

Katniss knew her mouth would get her into trouble – why hadn't she stopped talking when she still could? Her temper was just as bad as Dad's . . .

There was a moment of silence.

"Fine. Then give me another earpiece."

Katniss felt horrible - some rebel she was.

Coin shook her head. "No, the broadcast begins in five minutes. You've ruined your chance. Now you have to make me, and the rest of Panem, believe you are genuinely against this rebellion, all on your own."

Katniss gave an exasperated sigh. Coin shrugged.

"If you don't, you'll regret it."

* * *

The room they'd set aside for the broadcast was horrible. It was gloomy, filled with cameras, and worst of all filled with monitors that showed them their own faces.

Katniss looked positively fake in all her synthetic skin.

There were only ten tributes present. Katniss knew more had survived, but the ones Coin had chosen to be present must have all been injured; none of them looked particularly well.

Peeta sat beside her as her fellow tribute from District Twelve.

He was pale and his hair was cut shorter than it had been, but other than that, he looked completely normal. His pant leg covered his prosthetic.

He wore no earpiece.

"Did they give you lines?" Katniss whispered. Peeta glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and shook his head tensely.

The broadcast was focusing solely on Coin so far. She gave her usual "I'm better than you, so I just know things" speech, so Katniss ignored her.

Katniss wanted to reach out and grab Peeta's hand, but knew her fake skin would probably freak him out. In fact, she sincerely hoped that was the only reason he refused to look at her.

"What are you going to say?" she asked him. He shrugged.

Katniss looked to the other tributes. They sat at a long wooden table, all dressed in black uniforms with somber expressions.

She only recognized one tribute – Finn. He sat next to the girl from District Five, who looked distinctly sour about the entire situation. Finn looked no better though – his face was harder than she remembered.

He must have sensed her stare; he shifted to look back at her. Finn's green eyes roamed her face, and when they met her eyes, Katniss knew she wasn't alone in her anger. The other tributes might be faking indifference, but Finn looked just as anxious and furious as she felt.

Even though he didn't nod at her, or say anything, Katniss felt she had at least one person who understood her plight. He was going through the same thing.

President Coin was still giving her speech, and Katniss could see from the monitors that they were showing various charts, and documents, and even some of the horrific pictures she'd shown Katniss. Coin was laying it on heavy. Would Panem seriously believe anything she said?

When all of Coin's documentation had been shown, the monitors flashed back to her composed face.

"And so I'm urging you, as citizens of Panem, to make the right decision."

Her eyes flickered to her left, where the tributes all sat at their table. For a brief moment, Coin's eyes met Katniss's, and she recognized the warning in them.

Right. Katniss had to come up with something good, and soon. She had no doubts that Coin would go after Peeta if she didn't. Katniss took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

"We will now hear from the tributes. They've –"

Coin abruptly cut off as a loud, wailing alarm sounded. Almost immediately, it stopped. Everyone in the room, including the cameramen, looked completely clueless.

Coin seemed taken aback, but nevertheless continued.

"They've graciously –"

The lights in the room flickered. Katniss looked up, as did everyone else.

_I really hope they aren't bombing us. I don't want to die in this room_.

This time, when the disturbance was over, Coin did not continue. She looked to her crew with frustration, waiting for an explanation.

"Maybe the power's shorting out?" One of them offered.

Coin sighed and looked back at the camera. "We are sorry for the technical difficulties. As I was saying –"

She cut off again when the monitors began flickering. They all stared at the screens in front of them when after many seconds of static, a man's face finally appeared.

Katniss had never seen him before. Her eyes darted to Coin, who looked satisfyingly shocked.

The man had a kind face and salt and pepper hair. He wore a simple grey suit.

"Hello, President Coin; citizens of Panem. My name is Richard Franks. I am from District Three."

Coin stood up quickly and looked at her crew in anger. "What are you all doing, just standing there? Get him off the screen!"

The picture on the monitor spanned out – Katniss could now see that Franks was not alone – eleven other men sat in the room with him.

"There are representatives from each District in this room, President Coin. Including One, Two, and Four, despite their aptitude for war. We have courteously listened to you explain yourself multiple times, and now I think we should have the chance to give our opinion, not only to you, but to all of Panem."

Coin hesitated. "How are they overriding our system?"

One of the men on her crew threw his hands up in exasperation. "I have no idea."

"The technicalities of how the rebellion started no longer matter, President Coin. Whether you, or the rebellion, are the perpetrator has become irrelevant. The time for change has arrived. Rebellion or not, things will be very different in Panem."

Katniss looked around the room, trying to see if she recognized the representative from Twelve. Her heart pounded quickly when she realized that the mayor was indeed present.

"As representatives of the Districts, we are offering you a one time chance to negotiate. If you do not, we are all prepared to join in this rebellion and start an all-out war. If you agree to speak with us, we will meet on neutral ground between Districts Five and Six, where we are currently located.

"A train is due to leave for District Six from the Capitol at 10 AM tomorrow morning. It will lead you straight to our location. We ask that if you agree to this negotiation, you will respect us, as we plan to respect you. We have no tricks up our sleeve; we ask that you will promise the same.

"If you are truthful about your intentions, President Coin, then this negotiation should be very beneficial. But if they are not, and if you do not show up tomorrow, then Panem's fate will no longer be in your hands."

Franks paused.

"To be sure that the events of our peace meeting are properly accounted, we will be broadcasting it to every television in Panem at approximately 1 PM tomorrow afternoon."

The man nodded to the camera. "Until tomorrow. Thank you for listening."

Franks disappeared from the monitor, and Coin's alarmed face reappeared.

The room was completely silent.

As soon as she realized she was once more the center of attention, Coin jumped out of the shot and strode out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

* * *

AN: So much more was supposed to happen in this chapter, but it got so long that I'm going to separate it into two chapters. And I'm fairly certain everything I said about District Thirteen is true - but if it's not, I'm sorry. A lot of background info, but I wanted to make sure it's understood that Thirteen, and Coin, have reasons for being the way they are.

Next chapter is exciting. At least to me. Stick around.


	14. Peace

**Chapter Thirteen: **Peace

"Let me leave."

Katniss, and every other tribute present in the room, watched as Finn stood nose to nose with the Capitol guard.

"Let me out of this room," Finn rephrased.

All of the cameramen had left after Coin departed – but five of Coin's guards remained to watch after the tributes. For reasons Katniss didn't understand, they weren't allowed to leave the room. Was Coin afraid they'd run away? A nearly ridiculous notion; after all, half of them were injured, and half were hundreds of miles from their District.

The guard, his face shielded by his helmet, was silent and sturdy in his position blocking the door. Finn let out a huge, heavy sigh and turned back around to the table.

"You're lucky he didn't tranquilize you," a girl from District Seven said.

Finn ignored her and sat restlessly back in his seat.

Katniss stared at Peeta, who was looking down at the table forlornly.

It was a touchy situation; Katniss knew that she herself was terrified. She knew that one day soon, she'd realize that this was real life. But she hadn't let herself focus on that yet – she knew the only way she'd live through this partially intact was to fight strongly and show as little weakness as possible.

Peeta was a different story. Katniss had a horrible feeling she knew why he was so distant.

"Can we talk?" She whispered. She still desperately wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but knew that her fake skin would upset him. It upset her also, to be honest.

Peeta pursed his lips in uncertainty and looked at her slowly. His eyes ran sadly over her eyes, her nose, her cheeks; every part of visible skin.

Katniss felt dread in her stomach when she noticed Peeta was trembling.

"Is this real?"

His question was so quiet, so defeated that Katniss wanted to lie to him. She wanted to tell him that if he just closed his eyes and went to sleep, everything would be better when he woke up.

Peeta had lived his entire life as a happy child. His family had struggled at times, of course, like most families, but he'd always kept his smile. When Katniss had repeatedly led him on, only to turn him away, he'd always come back to her – right when she needed him the most. He'd always told her Dad's delusions of a horrible world were of the past; things would never be that way again. Peeta had believed, probably up until the moment he'd entered that empty-looking arena, that things would be okay. That the world really wasn't as horrible as everyone said it was.

And now, Peeta saw the truth. This world, their world, wasn't simple or filled with morally oriented people. In reality, the world was everything Peeta had spent the majority of his life convincing Katniss it wasn't . . .

"Yes."

Sugarcoating it wouldn't help him in the end.

Silence hung between them.

Peeta looked at her skin again, his expression tired and wary.

"How is your skin? Haymitch said it's better but . . . you're still wearing that stuff."

Katniss felt exposed; the other tributes weren't listening, but none of them were talking. They all sat quietly, in their own little worlds.

"It's all right. I guess. I haven't actually looked. It feels better, though."

Peeta nodded. With a hesitant hand, Katniss reached up and touched his short hair.

"By choice?" She asked.

He nodded but supplied no words.

"What . . . What do you think Coin will do?" Katniss asked him, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

Peeta looked unsure. "Something horrible, I'm sure. She doesn't take well to orders."

Katniss nodded. "Very true. But do you really think she can avoid this? The Districts have cornered her."

She wished Dad was here – she would have _loved_ to see his face when that man interrupted Coin's speech. He would probably still be ranting on and on about what Coin would or wouldn't do.

Peeta raised an eyebrow. "Katniss, think about what she's already done. Is there really anything that she can't do?"

Katniss didn't want to think that way, so she didn't reply. The room was quiet once more.

Finn stood up again and went to glare face-to-face at the guard.

"Just let us leave! What use could Coin possibly have for us now? It's a matter between the Districts and her, just as she wanted."

A loud bang was heard and the guard held a hand out to stop Finn, as though it had been him who'd caused the commotion. But no, the noise had come from outside their little room.

All of them listened as the sound of footsteps echoed outside in the hallway. Multiple people were walking towards their room.

A loud knock sounded, and the guard paused only for a second before turning around and answering it.

"Direct orders from Plutarch Heavensbee," a strong voice said, one that Katniss recognized as Finnick Odair.

The guard reached his hand out to the other side of the door, and when he pulled it back, Katniss could see a piece of paper.

The guard studied it for a full minute before he nodded.

"Your mentors are here to retrieve you. You may follow."

Finn waited for no further instructions and charged past the guard.

Katniss and Peeta waited until all the other tributes had left, considering they were the only two still confined to wheelchairs.

"Am I going to have to drag you two out of here?" Dad's head peaked around the door and he looked highly irritated.

"We're invalids, give us time," Katniss snapped, but immediately felt horrible when she saw the look on Peeta's face.

"Peeta, I didn't mean it," she hastily tried to apologize, but he silenced her with a sharp wave of his hand.

"Let's just go."

To her surprise, the guard actually helped them navigate out of the door. Dad took her wheelchair over as soon as they were in the hall.

"Do you have any objections to me taking that stuff off of you?" Dad asked as they walked briskly towards the elevator.

Katniss winced; technically, yes, she didn't really want him to try and remove it. But she also didn't feel like finding a nurse.

"Be careful," she warned. When they were safe in the elevator, he pushed the emergency stop button.

"Okay, shouldn't be too difficult. Don't tell me if it hurts, I'm not stopping anyway," Dad informed her.

Katniss looked to Peeta as Dad pulled the fake layer of skin off one of her hands. Peeta was purposefully looking to the ground.

"Are we in a hurry?" Katniss asked.

Dad shrugged. "We have to be ready for anything, just in case. Heavensbee and Coin are in a private meeting, discussing their options."

Removing the skin wasn't as bad as she'd thought it would be; it practically fell off once Dad started to peel it.

"What are their options?" asked Katniss.

Dad paused. "Well . . . if Coin was the only one making the decision, which she might ultimately be, then I would say she'll find a way to manipulate the Districts into agreeing with whatever peace treaty she finds satisfying. But Heavensbee . . . I'm surprised he's involved. He might be her second-in-command, but he's been relatively quiet the past couple of years. He might turn the tides for the better. Calm Coin down, if that's possible."

Dad finished peeling off her skin and threw it to the ground. "It was their idea, let them deal with it," was his only excuse for leaving it there.

Katniss glanced at Peeta once more, as she had been doing for the past couple of minutes, and saw that he was looking at her – finally.

He gave her a small smile, one that gave her enormous hope.

"You look good," he said quietly, and then she was the one adverting her eyes.

Dad was looking at the ceiling of the elevator, his eyes squinted.

"I don't see any cameras."

Katniss finally felt like maybe, just maybe, Dad was going to tell her something useful. She knew that he had to know more about this rebellion than he was letting on – after all, everyone in Panem _knew_ he hated Coin, they knew that he knew her better than most people (having dealt with her in the past), and, most importantly, they probably knew that he would do anything to cause her downfall.

Dad looked to Peeta. "You listen to this, too."

He knelt down in front of Katniss's wheelchair and put his hands on top of hers.

"Katniss, I'm going with Coin to the negotiation."

She blinked at him in surprise. "But, Dad . . . she hasn't even officially announced she's going to the negotiation!"

Dad nodded and glanced around the elevator once more.

"I can't tell you how I know, just in case anyone _is_ listening, but I've spoken with the mole – in the Capitol. The rest of the government officials will force her. They are just as tired of this rebellion as we all are, and want it over before more lives are lost. Coin will go or be faced with execution, I'm sure. They aren't playing around anymore."

Dad looked extremely serious as he stared right into her eyes.

"Katniss, I need to do this. The first war – I didn't do anything to stop it while I could. I _knew_ Coin wouldn't be a good President, I knew she would turn out just as bad as Snow. But I didn't do anything; I was too caught up in your mother and her struggles, and I was worried about you, because I didn't know if you'd been born, or killed, or missing – they told me nothing. I wallowed in self-pity in the moments I could have actually made a difference. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."

Katniss didn't like how serious he sounded; it made her jittery and panicked.

"Then I'll come with you," she whispered, but knew it was hopeless. It was clear he didn't intended for her to follow.

"You can't, sweetheart. The District representatives waiting for Coin – they know I'm going to be there. They trust me. At the very least, they know I can be helpful. I'm more familiar with Coin than most, unfortunately. For the sake of safety and fairness, they are only allowing specified personal on that train out of the Capitol – they don't want Coin bringing too many of her guards or any type of weapons that can be used against them."

Katniss shook her head in defiance. "Well, then – just tell them I'm coming! If you've already been in contact -"

"I want to keep you safe," Dad interrupted. "Even if we are monitoring Coin's actions, it's hard to tell what she'll be able to do. This whole situation is unprecedented and exceptionally tense."

Dad had never turned down Katniss so forcefully. She was a good kid, despite her crankiness and wandering. They got along by comprising.

"So I'm just supposed to wait here in this hospital, until you return?" Her voice was high with disbelief.

Dad nodded. "Yes. I'm not going to be gone long. And if things escalate instead of calming down – if Coin ends up fueling the rebellion more – I will make sure you are with me. Finnick is staying here – he will keep you safe. He will bring you with him, to me, if the rebellion fires up again. You can trust him above all others, Katniss. I promise."

Dad looked to Peeta. "You too, Peeta. I will keep you both safe."

Katniss felt insulted: How could Dad leave her, in the middle of all of this? Why?

He sensed her hurt. His eyes softened and he cupped her cheek with his hand.

"This isn't your war, sweetheart. It's mine. You never should have been involved; I'm going to do my best to make sure you aren't any longer. The less you know, the safer you will be."

He started the elevator back up, indicating the conversation was over, regardless of what Katniss thought.

"He's right, Katniss," Peeta said quietly. "We shouldn't get involved any further."

Katniss refused to look at either one of them; she failed to see how she _wasn't _involved.

The elevator dinged open. She'd been expecting an army of guards waiting for them, wondering why the elevator had been shut off. But no one was there, and Dad wheeled her back to her room in silence.

Peeta, to her surprise, followed them.

"You're not going to ignore me anymore?" Katniss snapped.

He gave her an amused smile, and she cursed him for knowing her so well – she was only lashing out because of her anger at Dad.

Dad tried to help her into her bed, but she insisted on doing it herself. With a sigh, he sat down in his usual chair beside her bed. Peeta wheeled himself on her other side.

Dad pointed the remote at the TV, turned it on, and they sat there in silence.

* * *

The next morning, much of Panem was optimistic.

Sometime during the middle of the night – Katniss had conveniently _not_ been woken up for it – Coin appeared on television once more and confirmed her attendance at the peace negotiation.

When Katniss woke up, the TV was turned on to the Capitol news station, which had been shut down since One and Two invaded. The male anchor was hesitant and wary looking, but the news indicated a shift of attitude amongst the citizens.

One and Two had temporarily (hopefully permanently, according to the news report) retreated. Their armies still resided on the outskirts of the Capitol, but they had relinquished what ground they had gained inside the borders. District Four, who had been preparing to send their own forces to fight, issued a statement supporting the decision of peace negotiations.

Katniss knew she couldn't be the only one thinking this entire situation was too good to be true.

But, for now, things looked to be calming down. In fact, she was almost ready to forgive Dad for his decision to leave her behind.

When she woke up, he hadn't been in the room, but Peeta was still slouched in his wheelchair sleeping.

"Peeta?" She reached over and gently nudged him.

He squinted at her with sleepy eyes. "Yeah?"

"Have you seen my dad?"

Peeta sat up straighter and massaged his neck. "Yeah, I saw him earlier this morning. Said he had to go talk to Coin. I guess she threw a fit when she found out he was going."

Katniss raised her eyebrows, impressed. After all of Katniss's accusations and insults, Coin had barely blinked an eye. Dad must have really pissed her off to get such a reaction.

"At least the hate is mutual," Katniss replied.

Silence took over the room, and it was the first time Katniss and Peeta had been completely alone since they got out of the arena. There wasn't as much tension as she'd been expecting, but there was definitely a sense of anticipation.

Peeta sensed it also. "Katniss . . . Please don't be angry, but – if it's all right, can we not talk about the Games just yet? I know you wanted to talk yesterday, and I know we'll need to eventually. But for now, can we just pretend like everything's okay? I'm not ready yet."

Katniss figured he'd say something along those lines. She nodded.

"Yeah, Peeta. We can wait."

The problem was, they didn't have anything else _to_ talk about. Bringing up anything regarding their normal lives – school, hunting, the bakery – would remind them too much of what they missed.

It comforted her to know, though, that Peeta was going to be okay. _They_ were going to be okay. It would just take longer than she would like for them to get there.

At nine-thirty, Dad bounded back into the room, dressed in a full-out uniform.

"Are you disguising yourself as a guard?" Katniss asked, taken aback by how formal he looked.

He grimaced in displeasure and shook his head. "No. Coin wants me to looks presentable – and well . . . she's probably right."

The uniform had to be meant for a guard. Thankfully, he wasn't subjected to wearing the helmet, but it still felt unsettling to Katniss.

Dad sensed her discomfort. "Katniss, I know you're still unhappy, but –"

"No. It's not that. You just look . . . so much younger."

He glared at her but accepted her excuse.

"The train leaves in a half-hour. Do you want to come down to the station with me?"

She nodded. She would have been mad, had he _not_ offered.

"I heard on the news this morning that Coin officially accepted the Districts invitation. Anything else happen that they aren't reporting?"

Dad steadied her as she got out of bed and into the wheelchair.

"Not much that I know. Heavensbee and Coin are both going. They're allowed to take six guards, two for each of us. Although I can't imagine why anyone would attack me."

Peeta gave a laugh and followed behind them.

The hospital was eerily quiet. The tension of the past week had clearly diffused.

When they got to the main entrance of the hospital, two guards seemed to appear out of nowhere to flank them. Despite the circumstance, Katniss was excited to finally be able to get some fresh air. She was used to roaming the District and the woods freely – and for the past week she'd been confined to her hospital room.

The Capitol was quiet. True to the news report, there were no soldiers in front of City Hall. Katniss could see the path of destruction they'd left though; a couple of buildings down the block looked like they'd had better days. The entire street was covered in dust, assumingly from broken up concrete, and the stairs on City Hall appeared to be almost completely crushed.

"How did the Capitol hold them back?" Katniss wondered out loud.

Dad cleared his throat and maneuvered her down a ramp. The train station was directly across from City Hall, and the hospital was only a building down from that.

"Well, Coin has her own army of guards. Notice that the buildings on the street across from City Hall are also looking slightly damaged. They fought back. Coin used tear gas instead of bombs, oddly enough. I've always taken her for a 'kill now, ask questions later' kind of person."

The train was already pulled up to the station. A single team of cameramen was set up near the main entrance. Coin and Heavensbee stood, both tense, in prim and formal Capitol attire.

Finnick and, to Katniss's surprise, Effie, also stood in the send-off party.

"Effie!" Katniss exclaimed as they got closer. She was ashamed to admit it, but she hadn't thought about the frilly fashion guru since the arena.

Effie was dressed head to toe in black, which also took Katniss off guard. Somehow though, Effie managed to make the black look less sinister. Her hat looked like a huge puffball of fur, and her dress a tangle of ribbons. For once, she was not wearing colored contacts, and Katniss could see that her eyes were blue.

"Katniss, dear. It is so nice to see you."

Her voice was warm and sincere, and Katniss felt like Effie genuinely meant her words.

"And Peeta. You're looking as dashing as ever," Effie bent down to give him a small hug, and Katniss grinned at his blush.

"What about me?" asked Dad. "Don't I look dashing?"

Effie laughed wholeheartedly. "Of course, Haymitch."

"Why are you here?" Katniss interrupted.

"Because you're here, darling. While Haymitch is gone, I'll be in charge of watching over you. And Peeta."

Katniss accepted her words with ease. She'd figured they would assign someone to care for them, as they were tributes and both underage. Effie, out of all the people Katniss had met from the Capitol, was the best choice.

Coin and Heavensbee looked extremely on edge. Plutarch, whom Katniss had met one time – when he'd told her about her new living arrangements in District Twelve – looked years older than his age and exceptionally less lively than usual.

"Katniss," he nodded to her when he noticed her stare.

She nodded back silently. Her eyes drifted to someone she'd failed to see before – a young girl, about twenty, dressed in purple and nearly hiding behind Plutarch.

Once more, he noticed the direction of her gaze.

"Oh, yes. This is my assistant, Penelope. From District Seven. Quite the District, right dear?"

The expression on her face unsettled Katniss – she looked, well . . . mean, but also extremely worried. Katniss gave her a hesitant nod and turned away.

Three of Coin's guards appeared from the train, all leading dogs on leashes.

"Train's clear. No bombs. No weapons. Not even any cameras."

Coin nodded and Katniss saw her face relax. "Thank you."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Katniss saw Dad pat Peeta's shoulder before squatting down in front of her.

His face was also relaxed, just as Coin's, and he looked more confident than he had since the reaping.

With a smile, he reached in his pocket and pulled out Maysilee's Mockingjay pin. Katniss was relieved to see it hadn't been completely destroyed in her fire, even though it was burnt on one side and bent on the other.

"She'd be so proud of you, you know," said Dad. He pinned it to his uniform, on the sleeve of his left arm.

"She would have loved to be here for this day," Dad continued, his voice low. "Maybe she could have finally had some peace."

Katniss stared at him, unsure of what to say. One thing was for certain though: Dad's optimism regarding this peace negotiation gave her hope.

He stood up and gently leaned over to give her a hug.

"This'll be over in no time, and then we'll be back in District Twelve bickering like always. I promise."

Katniss smiled. "I trust you, Dad. You know that."

He gave her one last smile, stood up, and went to join Coin and Heavensbee.

Finnick shook hands with him briefly before coming to stand next to Katniss and Peeta.

"It's a big, big, big day, isn't it, Effie?" He nudged her elbow playfully.

Katniss could vaguely remember Effie saying that once before. Presently, though, she gave Finnick a small smile.

"Yes, it is," was her only reply.

They watched as the cameras started rolling. Three guards dressed in white, whom Katniss had never seen before, exited the train and forced Coin, Dad, Heavensbee, and the Capitol guards to be patted down before boarding.

Satisfied, they waited until each in turn had boarded the train before getting on themselves.

The cameras, as well as Katniss, watched the train until it was no longer in sight.

* * *

Hours later, when Katniss was back in her room napping, she was awoken by the sound of someone yelling.

Peeta, who seemed to have moved temporarily (or permanently) into her room, was also woken up by the commotion.

A chorus of voices was bickering outside her doorway, but the loudest of all was Effie.

"Back away this instant! This is a hospital! You must give privacy! Katniss is still recovering, leave her alone!"

Peeta glanced at Katniss in slight alarm. "Reporters?"

Katniss felt dread rise up in her. The news stations _had_ been shut down because of the rebellion . . . maybe now, since they were running again they finally wanted an interview.

Peeta and Katniss both watched as Effie slid through a tiny crack in the door and shut it behind her in exasperation.

"You're up!" She looked momentarily surprised. "Well, of course you are, with all those idiots knocking on your door."

She was still wearing her black outfit, but her hat had disappeared.

"They want interviews?" Katniss asked.

Effie paused. She glanced at Peeta before nodding slightly.

"Yes, but . . . it's more than that, Katniss. I – oh dear, I thought you'd still be sleeping. I'm not prepared."

Katniss raised her eyebrows. "Prepared?"

Effie sighed and sat down in Dad's usual chair. Katniss saw that her face was void of makeup - a rare occurrence - and her hair was less than neat.

Without words, Effie turned on the TV. The news station was still on – but Katniss had no idea what they were showing. It was a huge field, completely blackened. A flying helicopter had to be responsible for the recording, because as the camera panned out, Katniss could see an overhead view for miles. Every surface of what she supposed had once been a vast, green field was now completely destroyed and every building flattened.

"What happened?" She turned to Effie, who was looking slightly green.

Katniss looked to Peeta. Panic rose up in her when she realized he also looked sick – he had apparently figured out what had happened.

"Peeta?"

Effie reached over and held her hand. She was silent for many moments, and only spoke again when Katniss squeezed her hand tightly.

"Katniss . . . it must have been a trick. I – I don't know what to say t-to you –" Effie cut off abruptly and burst into tears.

Katniss pulled her hand back from Effie's and looked at her in fear.

"Effie, tell me right now!" Her voice shook.

Effie's blue eyes watered as she looked at Katniss in pity.

"The train. It – there _was_ a bomb! It – completely – destroyed - everything!" Effie sobbed.

Katniss's eyes snapped back to the TV. The miles and miles of debris; the smoke; the railroad tracks . . . The headline, running across the screen:

_PRESIDENT COIN, HEAVENSBEE CONFIRMED DEAD _

She dazedly looked back to Effie's sobbing form.

"And Dad?" Her voiced echoed.

Effie shook her head and her wails increased in volume. "Oh, H-Haymitch! H-He didn't deserve this!"

Katniss managed to stand and stumble towards the door before she even realized she was moving. Peeta, who looked equally as distressed as Effie, shakingly rose out of his wheelchair and looked at Katniss with pleading eyes.

"Katniss, sit back down. Don't –"

She barely heard him. The door opened, she slipped out, and multiple reporters bombarded her. She listened to none of them – instead, she sprinted down the hall, past the nurses and doctors, and through a set of metal doors.

Her legs gave out – she fell down a flight of stairs and into the wall. She heard the doors she'd run through bang open, and footsteps race down towards her.

"Katniss?"

She ignored the voice, but vaguely realized she recognized it.

"Katniss," the voice was calm and sympathetic. Hands grabbed her head lightly and forced her eyes open – she was crying.

Blurrily, she met the eyes of Finnick.

"Come with me," he whispered. When she didn't attempt to move, or even acknowledge his presence, he lifted her into his arms and walked back up the stairs.

"You're okay," he murmured, and although his voice was comforting and strong, she strongly disagreed.

She would _never _be okay again.


	15. Breaking Point

**Chapter Fourteen: **Breaking Point

_Two Weeks After The Bomb _

"We know you had nothing to do with it."

A long pause.

"Katniss, the faster you comply, the quicker you can go home."

More silence.

"I'll ask you one last time," the male voice was harsh and frustrated. "Tell me everything you saw that day on the platform."

The word "platform" caused a vivid picture of the train, of the guards, the sky, the tracks . . . Dad – to flash before her eyes. Her heart rate increased and she looked pointedly away from the man sitting at her bedside.

In normal circumstances, Katniss assumed he would be a nice, compassionate and fair man. At least, he had been the first couple of days he'd come to question her. His patience was wearing thin, nearly two weeks later. She had refused, and would continue to refuse to talk about it.

The man – Woodburn – looked at her tiredly for a few moments, his brown eyes and pale face sympathetic.

"Any information you give us will only _help_ you. I've already told you, we aren't accusing you of anything! We know you would never have harmed your father! But there were limited witnesses, and we need first-hand accounts."

Katniss glared at him. "The cameras weren't good enough?"

Woodburn looked frustrated once more and shrugged. "They only recorded the President and her party boarding the train. Nothing before. What happened before the train was boarded is the most important."

Katniss looked to the ceiling, and her forehead ached at the movement. All the crying had made her physical pain much worse . . . she was no longer able to be strong. There was only so much she could handle before she cracked.

Woodburn put his hand on her arm – the first time he'd ever touched her – in what Katniss assumed was supposed to be comfort.

"Please consider the importance of your account. Even if something seems utterly insignificant to you – even if you _didn't_ actually witness anything of substance – it could help us rule out possible scenarios."

Katniss hated him. Every word he spoke forced her mind to go back to that day. He refused to believe she would never talk; he came back every single day with different persuasive words.

Woodburn silently looked at her for many moments before he hesitantly took a starting breath.

"If it persuades you to cooperate, I can arrange for you to see Peeta."

Katniss's eyes flickered to Woodburn's in alarm. His expression was open and apparently truthful. Nothing about his demeanor made her think he was lying, but – in all honestly – Katniss wasn't sure she trusted anyone anymore.

Woodburn noticed her interest and continued.

"If it will prove to you that we have nothing against you, then you can see him. He wants to see you. It's not – we've known for many days that you had no part in the assassination – we haven't been separating you in malice."

Her expression must have conveyed doubt, because Woodburn winced.

"We had to clear his name. That was part of why you've been apart. But mostly it's been for protection. That's why you are still guarded. Just in case someone who does believe you to be involved comes searching for vengeance."

Katniss didn't believe a word he said. They had kept Peeta and her apart for the sake of making sure they weren't planning. They were guarding them so they couldn't escape. They were hiding all information from her so Katniss couldn't connive her way out.

She'd only been under Finnick's care for half a day. And then, anyone who had been on the platform was taken away and completely cut off from the outside world. Katniss couldn't even turn on her pathetic hospital TV. She was forced, day and night, to be cornered by only her miserable thoughts, the worst of memories – Dad on the first day she met him, the first time he'd taken her to the forest, the day he'd finally told her about Maysilee – she couldn't escape her nightmares.

She had never known such pain in her life. It was never-ending.

Nothing would make it go away. She would spend the rest of her life missing Dad.

But Peeta might make the pain more bearable.

"I _would_ like to see him," she admitted, as it was hardly worth hiding. It was fairly obvious she wanted to be with Peeta – he was her family now.

"But," she continued, "I refuse to believe a word you say."

Woodburn looked at her with squinted eyes. Sure, she'd been spiteful in the past couple weeks, but she had never deliberately provoked him or openly admitted she didn't trust him (even though it was fairly obvious from her refusal to speak).

Woodburn glanced back at two guards who were standing in the room with them.

"Leave us," he ordered. The guards looked at each other silently in question, but still backed out of the room without argument. The door shut soundly behind them.

Woodburn reached inside the front pocket of his Capitol uniform, pulled out a small device, and seemingly turned it off.

"For our ears only," he specified.

Katniss felt her eyes sting and her hands tingle. She was nervous, she was excited, and she was terrified all at once. Woodburn, if he truly believed she had nothing to do with The Bomb, must know the one thing that might make her talk - information on who exactly _was_ responsible.

"We have known, nearly since right after it occurred, that the rebels were not responsible for this."

His voice was troubled and for once, he refused to meet her eyes. Katniss, on the other hand, looked at him intensely.

"How?" She breathed.

Woodburn swallowed loudly and fidgeted.

"The devastation the bomb caused," he continued slowly, "could have only been caused by a bomb of great technology – technology that no other District, besides Thirteen, has ever been able to imagine, let alone construct."

Katniss stared at him silently.

"I'm sure you know our specialty was Nuclear Technology?" Woodburn questioned.

She nodded slightly.

"Yes, well . . . just as – just as we've been . . . experimenting . . . all these years with, um, substances such as the Tracker Jacker venom, we've been continuing on our studies of the nuclear type. The bomb used in the train explosion had only been developed within the past year or so – the newest technology we had."

He cut off. Katniss could hear in her head where he had been going – the reasoning why the bomb was created in the first place. Woodburn knew better than to reveal that piece of information to her. He looked guilty as his eyes finally fixed on hers again.

"As you can assume, no one knew about our developments. It was completely under wraps. Just as the true nature of these Hunger Games were."

His face was weary and he looked distinctly sad as he glanced down to the floor.

"The President was killed by one of her own."

Katniss gave Woodburn credit for distinguishing the people of Panem as different from the people of this Capitol – at least he wasn't delusional like Coin had been.

"And that's how you know I wasn't involved? Because I'm a lowly citizen and could have never known my Capitol was planning on massacring part of the population?"

Woodburn sighed and anger flashed in his eyes.

"It wasn't constructed with specific intent. The President knew the Districts would soon be out of hand, so she took up the defensive."

Katniss let silence fall between them. This conversation was informative, but still wholly unneeded on Woodburn's part. She honestly knew nothing - if she did, she would have found a way out of this hospital and went after whoever had planted The Bomb. She probably would have been killed in the process, or Finnick would have found a way to stop her, but nevertheless – if she knew anything at all, she would have been attempting to do something about it.

"I don't know anything about who planted it, Woodburn. You can stop questioning me. That day – that day –" her voice cracked and she looked away from him, and towards the closed blinds of her room as if she could still see outside.

"I was more concentrated on my father that day," her voice was shaky and she could feel herself shutting down again. But if she got this out – if she finally made Woodburn see that she was no longer a threat, or part of this entire ridiculous scheme – maybe everyone would leave her alone.

"He was so happy," she closed her eyes, picturing his face as he pinned Maysilee's Mockingjay to his uniform. With embarrassment, she placed a hand over her face as she shook and tears leaked out.

In the background, she heard Woodburn stand up and open a drawer.

"Wait!" Her voice was breathless and scratchy, "Don't. I'll calm down."

The past two weeks had been nothing but sedation after sedation.

Woodburn sat back down. "Good. Because I wasn't going to ask you who planted the bomb. We already know."

Instead of immediately freaking out, her body started to shut down. Her ears rang and her vision tunneled. She was silent as she considered his words.

"Tell me," she heard her voice echo.

"Plutarch Heavensbee."

Katniss blinked.

"Why would he do that? You're wrong." Her voice was flat and defeated. They knew nothing . . .

Woodburn raised an eyebrow and studied her. "I can't imagine why you think so, but I assure you, we have undeniable evidence."

"For one," he continued, "he was the second-in-command. He knew everything. He would have been able to get to the bomb without any trouble. But most importantly, his accomplice survived to tell the tale."

Katniss's mind, for the first time in days, voluntarily flashed back to the faces on the platform. A nervous, sickly looking woman peaked out at her from behind Plutarch.

She almost opened her mouth to exclaim the assistant's name, but knew at once that if she volunteered that information, Woodburn would assume she really knew something. Instead, she looked at him in anticipation.

"His assistant was involved," Woodburn's face curled into disgust, "It appears as though her only purpose was to reveal who was truly behind the attack. She left a note, admitting to knowing about Plutarch's intentions, and explaining that he wanted everyone to know it wasn't the rebels. He'd apparently been helping them for quite some time, but acted alone on this. For reasons we cannot fathom."

Katniss lingered on Woodburn's intentional omission.

"A note?"

His face was still disgusted, and she could see the true man behind his façade.

"She killed herself. Before we could question her. She left us enough information though, to know what had happened. Further investigation is needed, of course. The Districts claim no involvement – and from the evidence, I don't see how they could have been involved – but everything must still be examined."

Katniss felt exasperated and confused, much the same as she'd been feeling since the moment she set foot in the arena.

"Then why are you questioning me?" Her voice was loud and angry. Any tears and shakiness had vanished, along with the catatonic-like state she'd been in for much of the past couple weeks.

Woodburn opened his mouth to give her an answer, but she'd had it. Cutting him off, she ripped any bandages that still remained on her skin off of her.

"I'm not dealing with any of this _bullshit_ anymore!" She screamed. "You've ruined my life! You put me in an arena, forced me to jump into a _fire_ for the sake of proving a point! You treat me as though I'm either a shiny puzzle piece to solve your problems, or a chunk of trash to throw to the dogs!"

Woodburn glanced briefly at her dresser, probably looking for the syringe filled with tranquilizer.

Katniss stood up, her vision turning red and her skin burning with adrenaline. It was as though a switch had been flipped in her brain.

"Ms. Abernathy, regardless of your opinion, you are in no position to speak to me in this manner. I am the sitting President –"

She lunged at his seated form and knocked them both over on the floor.

Her hand acted of its own accord, and as she pulled it away from Woodburn, blood splattered from his face. Her nails dug into his neck. She screamed incoherent obscenities at him, shaking him forcefully by the pristine collar on his Capitol uniform.

Woodburn grabbed at her wrists and tried to yell back at her – his eyes rolled towards the closed door where the guards had exited.

Katniss gave one hard pull of his collar, followed by a strong push, and he was still.

"I hate you all!"

Despite his unconsciousness - perhaps even death – Katniss continued to shake him violently.

"I've never done anything to you!"

The door banged open and she felt hands grabbing at her – strong hands. She punched behind her and kicked her legs forward.

Wildly, she looked around her and noticed a guard – standing away from the two guards attempting to restrain her – pointing a weapon at her.

"You are under arrest," his voice boomed.

"You can go to hell!" She screeched.

Katniss felt the guard behind her finally grab her wrists and tightly grasp them. She clenched her teeth and kicked at him.

"What are you waiting for?" The guard restraining her yelled angrily, and in the next moment, Katniss heard the other guard's weapon fire and felt sharp pain in her shoulder.

With a sudden gasp, she stilled and then collapsed.

* * *

AN: I know this was longer to update than usual. I'm sorry! I had obligations for school that had to be taken care of.

Moving on, I know this may seem like I cut forward too far or around parts. Keep in mind though, that this is from Katniss's POV until the end, and for the two weeks after the bomb, she was completely incoherent, much as she was towards the end of Mockingjay. The story would have been a bunch of suffering if I had focused solely on her in the direct aftermath. So my point is, Katniss didn't just move on from losing him - she really did completely emotionally lose it for a while, I just didn't focus on that as much as I could have.

That being said, Haymitch will still have his . . . tribute, I suppose . . . in the upcoming chapter or two. Her pain won't just disappear.

Two or three chapters left of the story. Stick around, not all the good stuff has happened yet.

I like reviews :)


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